The New Generation
by Pyroteknix
Summary: In the Post-Bladebreaker league, four rookies take their shot at the big time, winning glory and causing trouble along the way. Will they live up to the legend of their predecessors or fall short of everyone's expectation? Or just have some fun?
1. The Angel's Rosary

The New Generation  
  
"Wow, Evan! Look at Tyson go!"  
  
"Tyson's spirit is overcoming the strength of Tala's attack..."  
  
"Yeah! This is super cool, right? Maybe when we get out of here we'll be famous beybladers too!"  
  
"Maybe but, Bradley, do you honestly think we'll ever get out? It seems like a mere dream to me..."  
  
"C'mon, Evan! Look at the TV set! Don't you think Tyson's living out his dream! One day, somebody's going to adopt us and then we'll be living out our dream! I know it!"  
  
..........Several years later...........  
  
A 13-year old blonde European boy marched silently in the snow-covered gardens of the adoption center he called home. He was around 6 feet in height and had a fairly athletic build, a product of his endless physical exercise and activity. His body certainly seemed like it was always brimming with energy, ready to explode with life, but as of now, as the boy plowed through the dense white snow, it was quiet and seemed dead, as if its spirit had escaped it.   
  
His name was Bradley, pure and simple, as he, like the rest of the orphans in the St. Joseph's Center for Children, had no intention of ever finding out what his surname was. One dark and wintry morning, his parents had left him along with a short letter that revealed his name at the gates of the institution when he was a few days old and abandoned him completely. So young Bradley was left there on the icy steps leading to the center's gates, crying and whining incessantly until Father Matthew had discovered him and taken him in. And so he spent the rest of his childhood there, under the caring priests and nuns who resided there.   
  
But as of now, he was just another angry soul wandering the frozen lawns of the center.   
  
"I'm never going to get chosen!" He cursed mentally, kicking a stone buried in the whiteness that had fallen onto the earth.  
  
"No parent wants some stupid 13-year old boy! All they care about are the little babies! They always come, look at me inquiringly, then pick up some rotten kid howling in the corner! Then they leave and forget about that nice boy standing at the corner, like the rest of them!"  
  
Bradley shouted something incomprehensible and buried his fist into a young pine tree planted nearby. A tear slid down his cheek and dripped onto the snow at his feet. He shook his head and promptly sat down on the soft powder that covered the center's grounds, leaning against one of the ancient stone walls of the center. He stared at the ground blankly, his reddening eyes focused on the patch of white. Bradley's gloved hand slowly slid into the left pocket of his blue jeans and withdrew a pale, silver rosary from it. He closed his eyes and a breeze tickled his body as he begun to recite a prayer. "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women..."  
  
"Bradley! What are you doing here, my son? Sister Anna was looking all over for you during lunchtime..."  
  
A priest, aging yet still with boundless spirit and enthusiasm, ran up to him worriedly, as a father might to his child. The priest sighed quietly and bent down when he reached Bradley, resting a hand on the teenage boy's mop of golden hair. "Bradley, I know you're upset that the kind family who visited us did not select you after paying so much attention to you, but you should not be crying about it."  
  
Bradley blinked and turned his head to face the priest, who wore a reassuring and calm smile on his face, and sighed tiredly.   
  
"I'm sorry, Father Matthew. I was so sure I would be leaving. I was so sure I would finally have a real family I just... snapped."   
  
Father Matthew shook his head and laughed with mirth accenting his voice. He rubbed his young charge's head and stood up, smiling cheerfully. "You know better than this, Bradley. Come now, Sister Anna saved your dinner in the freezer. She cooked the most delicious scalloped potatoes today."  
  
"Yes, Father. I know how tasty her scalloped potatoes are." Bradley replied and smiled as well, brushing away a tear that froze on his right cheek. He stood up and proceeded to walk alongside Father Matthew, pocketing the rosary once more. The old priest laughed once more and pulled something out of the chest pocket of his traditional black robe. He opened his palm and showed Bradley a pale white rosary with the most beautiful angel, its wings spread apart as if it was soaring through the skies, engraved in shiny silver on the central piece.  
  
"If it makes you feel any better, I'll give you this rosary. It's been in our possession for years but we haven't the foggiest notion of what to do with it. Maybe it'll give you luck, Bradley."  
  
"Wow! Thanks, Father Matthew! This is so cool!"  
  
"Now there, that's the Bradley we all know! Come on, the dinner's only getting colder in that refrigerator."  
  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
  
"Bradley."  
  
"Hello, Evan! Reading your psychology book again?"  
  
Bradley walked into the room feeling considerably better and grinned at his tan-skinned, black-haired Asian friend who was lying down on his bed, engrossed in a thick book about the human psyche. Evan looked up at him with his traditional emotionless poker face and nodded, his short raven ponytail bobbing behind his head. "I'm sorry about this morning, Brad." The intellectual teenager commented sincerely and stared at his revitalized companion. Bradley grinned and scratched the back of his head.   
  
"Yeah well, I got over it."  
  
"That's good to hear."  
  
"There'll be other days and different families so I guess I shouldn't feel so lousy about this one time."  
  
Evan nodded in response and returned to his book, his eyes flitting over each word like a wasp, hungry for more. Evan had been sent to the orphanage a few months after Bradley turned one year old and quickly adjusted to the surroundings. His mother had died during his birth and his father had realized that it would be impossible for him to take care of his young son, Evan, and so, with a broken heart, gave him to the orphanage to take care of. As the years flew by though, Evan's emotions and mental facilities matured increasingly fast and he became one of the brightest, although solitary, minds in St. Joseph's Center for Children.   
  
Bradley then walked over to their cheap but working television set and switched it on, simultaneously falling backwards onto his own soft bed. A beyblading match promptly appeared on the screen and the blonde European shouted in excitement and proceeded to watch avidly.  
  
"Yeah, Evan, it's the Bladeslayers against the Tenrae on television! This is awesome!"  
  
"..."  
  
The European boy then felt a crunch underneath him and suddenly realized the rosary Father Matthew had given him was still in his pocket. Bradley's hand quickly whipped into his pocket and removed the rosary, leaving it unattended on the top of his bedside table.   
  
"Mark of the Bladeslayers executes an astonishing move!"  
  
"Argh! What'd I miss, Evan? What?"  
  
"That boy's bitbeasts countered its opponent's attack."  
  
"Damn! I can't believe I missed that!"  
  
"You shouldn't curse, remember."  
  
"All right..."  
  
Unnoticed by the two orphan boys, the angel carving on the rosary that Bradley received from Father Matthew glowed silently, pulsing like a heart would.   
  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
  
"Allen! I haven't seen you in ages, you old fool! Last I heard, you organized a reunion for those victorious Bladebreaker boys of yours."  
  
"Thank you, Matthew! I see your orphanage is doing quite well too. I haven't seen many orphanages with air-conditioning, warm food and a fancy chandelier in the hallway!"  
  
"Well, you see this building used to be a house of worship, my friend... I just added a small annex where the children could stay."  
  
"Good old Matthew, always caring for the children. Which brings me to the point of my visit..."  
  
"Don't tell me you plan to adopt a child, Allen! What will Mrs. Dickinson think?"  
  
"Oh no, Matthew! You see, life hasn't been the same with my old protégées, the Bladebreakers, all grown up and all..."  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that, Allen. But what of the children here?"  
  
"I am organizing another beyblading tournament here, Matthew, and I want some of your charges to participate in it. Their reward for winning would be the chance to go around the world and go head to head with other beybladers, just like what happened with my former team. After all, what orphan would refuse an opportunity to travel the world?"  
  
"My younger orphans, that's who. They're not old enough to join the sport yet and require constant supervision... And I'm sad to say they make up most of the population here."  
  
"Oh, that's a shame... I really hoped to find some children who would join here. I sorely miss looking after kids, especially after those four lunatics of mine matured."  
  
"Wait Allen, I have a thirteen year old and a twelve year old who would gladly enter your competition. After all, they've been trapped in my center for children for the entirety of their poor lives and I'm certain they would love to be free of here..."  
  
"Thank you my friend! May I inquire as to what their names would be?"  
  
"Ah, young master Bradley and his best friend, Evan."  
  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
  
End of Chapter  
  
I've decided to write a new brand of stories, which will be more serious than my previous attempts. I hope my old readers and new readers alike will enjoy reading them. Oh, and if you're wondering what happened to the original Bladebreakers, that will be explained shortly. 


	2. The Messenger

The New Generation  
  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
  
It was a relatively sunny morning and light filtered through the window of Bradley and Evan's room, casting a soft glow on the chamber's sleeping inhabitants. Evan stirred from his peaceful slumber and rolled onto his back silently before sitting upright, his back rigid and tense, on the white sheets of his bed. The Asian boy yawned in the same way a contented feline would and stretched his lean arms upward. Evan slowly got out of his bed and walked lazily to the window, raising his arms above his eyes to protect himself from the blinding glare of the sun. He then pushed the sliding windowpane up and let a cool winter breeze rush in. Evan's black ponytail fluttered with the wind and he proceeded to fix it in an unhurried, absentminded way. "It is 9 am, Bradley... You should get up from your sleep."  
  
Bradley let out a giant yawn from the bed adjacent to his and got out from underneath his warm blanket. The blonde European shook his head and begun to commence his morning exercises. He cocked his head in the direction of his roommate and greeted him, "Mornin', Evan."   
  
"Same to you, Brad. I believe Father Matthew wanted us to see him today."  
  
"Oh yeah... I'll just get changed and head downstairs."  
  
Bradley's emerald green eyes traveled to his companion and immediately noticed Evan was already wearing a clean white t-shirt and khaki pants. He raised an eyebrow questioningly but shrugged off his bewilderment. Bradley, however, could not resist inquiring about the rapidity of his friend's change of clothes and as he pulled out a long black jacket from their reasonably small wardrobe, shot a question at his best friend.  
  
"How did you change so unbelievably fast?"  
  
"I slept in these clothes. It's a useful strategy."  
  
"What! Won't they get wrinkled?"  
  
"I don't move in my sleep, Brad."  
  
"..."  
  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
  
"Good morning to both of you, Evan and Bradley."  
  
"Good morning, Father Matthew."  
  
"Sit down over there. I have something important to ask of you two, my sons."  
  
Bradley, dressed in a neat sleeveless white shirt and clean blue jeans, sat down along with his stoical friend. Father Matthew, who was sitting quietly on a small bench, smiled at his two orphans and placed his wrinkled and frail hands on his lap. "My good friend Allen Dickinson visited our center yesterday afternoon and asked a favor of me."  
  
Evan stared, apparently zoned out, at the wall a few good meters away from the elder priest's face and continued to do so, nodding silently in response. Bradley stole a quick glance at his friend, who was visibly absorbed in thought, and returned his attention to the ever cheerful Father Matthew. The European teenager then stretched his arms above his head and said,   
  
"Okay, but what does this have to do with us?"  
  
As the subject had turned to a matter that was of relevance to him, Evan's eyes snapped to Father Matthew's smiling face and watched him intently. Inside his heart was pounding loudly, as if shouting aloud: "This is it, Evan! Someone wants to take you in!" But he shut out the nagging thought and kept his mind blank and free from such a hopeful notion.   
  
The priest chuckled, remembering what he had said to Mr. Dickinson but yesterday, and looked straight at his young wards.   
  
"My friend is holding a beyblading tournament right here in our city and is inquiring if you two wish to participate in the competition. The winner is drafted into a new team and will travel the world, battling other enthusiasts of the sport."  
  
Bradley's jaw dropped and words were pouring into his mouth like a flood of rushing water. A thousand voices were screaming in his head, telling him this was it, an opportunity to get out of St. Joseph's Center for Children and see the rest of the planet. But there was something else in that flow, pounding against the back of his skull endlessly; telling him something was wrong and that his dream would not be fulfilled...  
  
"We don't have beyblades." Evan's voice, cold and unfeeling yet also sharp, sliced through the tense air.  
  
The Asian teenager looked down at the floor, his eyes filled with a sorrow darker than any night, and rested his forehead on his tan palms. Bradley sighed, bit his lip, and stared at his rubber shoes as well, holding back the frustration and anger that coursed through every nerve in his body. An amused laugh was received by their ears however and the two boys looked at Father Matthew with inquiring eyes.  
  
"A few dozen years back, a long time before beyblading was popular, my friend Allen excitedly gave me a few of the very first of those beyblades ever created and I've kept them with me since then. They might be a bit antiquated but I believe they'll suit you fine."  
  
Father Matthew turned his gaze to the high ceiling of the former church turned orphanage and twiddled his thumbs, trying to ignore the obvious excitement of his two protégées.   
  
"So, do you two boys accept?"  
  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
  
Bradley ran a hand through his tousled blonde hair, his jaw slightly ajar, and gently fingered his somewhat dusty beyblade, which was a pure white color, as it was entirely unpainted. He ran a finger across its smooth attack ring, feeling its edges, dulled over the course of many years, and intently gazed at it like he owned for months.   
  
It was already quite late at night but Bradley continued ogle at his new beyblade as if it was the most beautiful thing in the world. He realized that he and Evan were supposed to wake up bright and early as Father Matthew would be taking them to a small establishment where young beybladers gathered to train but he couldn't keep his eyes off his beyblade. But at long last, after a few dragging hours of meticulous examination, Bradley yawned, exhausted from the day, and laid his ancient beyblade down on the bedside table, right next to the rosary with the angel carving.   
  
"Tomorrow is the first day I get a chance to beyblade... Stupid me for not asking Father Matthew if I could a long time ago..."  
  
He yawned, dropped down onto his bed and pulled his blanket over himself, drifting off into dreamland...  
  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
  
~You there! Why do you possess me?~  
  
What are you talking about? I don't have anything...  
  
~You are wrong! You have me! But why? Are you not to weak to control me?~  
  
Who are you? And in what am I too weak?  
  
~You shall discover that when I decide you are worthy.~  
  
Answer me! Who are you and what do you want with me?  
  
~Good night, Bradley! I shall return when you are stronger.~  
  
Hey, wait, a second! No way are you escaping!  
  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
  
End of Chapter  
  
Okay, that's it. In the next chapter they meet Mr. Dickinson and get a few lessons in street beyblading from the neighborhood champions. 


	3. Colin Drake

The New Generation  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Beyblade anime series and all related objects. I do own the storyline, Bradley, Evan and the priest.  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
  
"Oh shit!"  
  
Bradley swore loudly, swinging himself out of bed and simultaneously throwing a black jacket that hung from a hook near his bed over his shoulder. The digital clock rang in a shrill tone beside Evan's unoccupied and neatly fixed bed seeing as the twelve-year old Asian had already left for the training center with Father Matthew.  
  
"They probably wanted to teach me a lesson for oversleeping..."  
  
The European orphan thought as he tried to put on a rubber shoe and hop over to the desk adjacent to his bed. The beyblade and rosary were quickly scooped into his pocket and Bradley dashed out of his room at a speed most cars would never achieve. He cursed himself over and over again inside his head as he raced down the stairs and past the relatively youthful Sister Anna.   
  
"Brad! Make sure you put those dirty clothes of yours in the bin today!"  
  
She shouted after him and Bradley waved after him in response, not bothering to slow down for anyone or anything. The younger orphans all yelled happily as Bradley zipped by them like a bullet and ran through the open double doors of St. Joseph's Center for Children.   
  
Bradley, panting for breath already, continued running down the street at full speed, ignoring the dull pain in his legs that was growing at a steady pace.   
  
"Have - to - make - it - before - they - start..."  
  
He gasped, his voice coming out in raspy, dry bursts. Bradley's foot slipped on an innocuous- looking leaf and he lost balance for but a few moments. And as such, he slammed into a bystander who was standing by the road. Bradley shouted an apology back at the general direction of the teenage boy he had mowed down and continued his swift pace.  
  
The boy stared at the rapidly disappearing back of his accidental attacker and raised his left eyebrow in suspicion. He whirled around and transferred his interest to the bright orange bus that was approaching him.   
  
"Never seen that kid around here before..."  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
  
The European's sun yellow hair was blown all the way back and he looked like he had just emerged from a wind tunnel. His long sleeveless black jacket that reached to just above his knees and was worn open above his white shirt was practically dotted with wrinkles. His arms hung limply from their sockets and acted more like dead weights to him than useful appendages. "Ha... I made it..."  
  
A soft breeze whistled across his face and he realized everyone in the small shop was giving him the hairy eyeball. An embarrassed flush of red spread on his cheeks and he laughed sheepishly, edging to a relatively shadowed corner of the room, as to avoid further humiliation. Bradley muttered something and began to search the establishment for any sign of Father Matthew and Evan.   
  
"Where are those guys?" He thought just as the clean glass door of the store slid open.  
  
The very same teenager he had practically bulldozed but a few good minutes a while ago entered the room, followed by a swarm of adoring female fans. At this sight, Bradley's mouth presently hung open slightly, as if he had tasted a particularly revolting venom. "What the hell..."   
  
The boy strode into the store like he owned it, his dark brown hair bobbing behind him like the sea of fans that did just as much. Simple blue denim jacket, pure white shirt, khaki pants... For a guy trailed around by a pack of adolescent girls, this guy sure didn't look like a popular kid until Bradley noticed a poster concerning a previous beyblading tournament.  
  
With his name at the top.  
  
Beside the giant sign that read: "First place"   
  
"Hi, Mr. Jansen... I'd like to see that new magnet core version you just received from Japan. I hear it's quite special." The brown-haired kid asked politely, leaning against the transparent plastic that covered the counter.   
  
Despite having an extremely sheltered and somewhat religious life in the orphanage, Bradley wasn't completely devoid of the seven original sins. In particular, the one so aptly titled pride. To the blonde European teen, this came quite often in the form of his competitive spirit; his burning desire to achieve victory no matter the cost. Unfortunately enough however, the russet-haired boy had unconsciously ignited that very flame.   
  
"Same here!"  
  
Bradley, walking towards the counter, said rather loudly, which once more caused the people hanging around in the store to notice him. The teenage boy he had run into earlier looked evidently surprised and wore a look somewhere in between puzzlement and curiousness, observing the golden-haired European who was now standing beside him. And as such, the girls following him quickly began to chatter incessantly about the newcomer in hushed tones.   
  
"Hey, aren't you that guy who bumped into me a while ago?"  
  
Bradley took a silent gulp and noticed a dozen pairs of eyes were locked on him, glaring at him with intense dislike.   
  
"Er, yeah. Sorry about that."  
  
The boy laughed and scratched the back of his denim jacket, smiling.  
  
"It's no big deal. The name's Colin Drake. How come I've never seen you at our school before?"  
  
A murmur spread throughout the adolescent crowd that had gathered at the store and Bradley was beginning to think that there must be only one educational facility in their town and all the kids must go there. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen more than one school when Sister Anna showed him that map when he was little...  
  
"It's Bradley. I'm an orphan of St. Joseph's Center for Children so I take my lessons there."  
  
He replied, half embarrassed and half defiant. The whispers grew a lot louder all of a sudden and Bradley swore that their eyes were burning into the back of his neck. But despite the abrupt increase of attention he was collecting, his chest swelled, as he was proud of the fact that he was unique. Colin shrugged and stopped leaning against the counter.  
  
"Oh, that's sad to hear. I thought you were a transfer student and..." Colin replied calmly and the people who stared intently at Bradley but a few seconds ago began to dissipate and drift around the shop. Bradley laughed and raised an eyebrow questioningly.   
  
"...Needed directions or something? I'm not stupid you know."  
  
Apparently, this was a great blow to Colin's ego and the teenager took a step closer to Bradley, glaring him down. And in effect, the fans that circled the brown-haired beyblader like vultures sneered at Bradley.  
  
"Well, you sure act like you are."  
  
"Say that again..."  
  
"What? Are you deaf too? You sure act pretty cocky for some unknown orphan."  
  
Bradley's lip twitched reflexively and the blonde boy also stepped forward and stared levelly at the chestnut orbs of his offender. A negative comment about his background was a supreme insult to him.  
  
"Yeah well, you blow a lot of hot air yourself."  
  
The two boys' lips curled into angry sneers and were just about ready to beat each other into a bloody pulp when the door opened once more and Father Matthew, Evan and a rotund man with whitening hair entered, carrying a large transparent box that contained what appeared to be paint cans.   
  
"Bradley! What are you doing?"  
  
"You appear to have woken up..."  
  
Father Matthew, who was quite obviously appalled by Bradley's aggressiveness, stood beside Evan, who aside from being completely calm actually seemed slightly amused. The plump man who had followed them was observing the face off curiously, staring at the two equally hostile adolescents. Bradley growled menacingly at the similarly threatening Colin, who was slowly reaching into his pocket.  
  
"Is this the other one you mentioned? He seems rather energetic."  
  
"I'm sorry! This is one of the few times he's interacted with children from outside of the orphanage! Bradley! Head over here! I'm sorely disappointed with your behavior..."  
  
Bradley face twisted into a scowl but he gave in to his caretaker's demand and walked towards the threesome in a stiff, frustrated manner. The blonde European was being told off by Father Matthew when, without warning, Colin shouted out his name.  
  
"Bradley! You're not escaping this so easily! I challenge you to a beyblading match, right here, right now!"  
  
Colin yelled, his fiery red and bright gold beyblade glittering in his hand. Bradley swore loudly, received a sharp poke in the head from Father Matthew and once again turned to face the brown-haired teenager standing but a few meters behind him. The elderly priest sighed and shook his head in surrender while his relatively fat companion smiled eagerly. "This could be interesting..."  
  
Bradley pulled out his own, unused, beyblade and stared straight back at Colin.   
  
"Fine! Right here, right now!"  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
  
End of Chapter  
  
Colin shows Bradley why he's the regional champion with a display of his dragon bitbeast's overwhelming power. But despite the insurmountable odds he is up against, Bradley hangs on to the last hope of victory, earning him a special advantage...   
  
Review please! I don't really need it because I already write these stuff for the heck of it but reviews are great support for me!  
  
~Pyroteknix 


	4. Revelations

The New Generation  
  
Disclaimer: And oh yeah, I own Colin Drake too.  
  
pyRO- Sorry folks, but I made a mistake concerning Mr. Dickinson's first name. It should actually be Stanley instead of Allen. Please imagine his name was Stanley right from the very start.   
  
Thanks for the reviews guys! Now I'm only 22 reviews away from breaking my record!  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
Colin stared evenly at Bradley, who was being repeatedly told off by the white-haired priest who had earlier arrived, and lightly ran his finger across the shimmering gold edges of his beyblade. Nobody dared called him arrogant back at school anymore as the last person who insulted him that way had several of his beyblades completely trashed and ripped to pieces. Colin believed only his parents and closest friends were worthy enough to call him a braggart and then he'd look at their comment as a passing criticism; their way of telling him what was wrong.   
  
But here comes Bradley, some blasted orphan from a center he had never heard about before, and calls him exactly that! This orphan was going to prove himself worthy of some of Colin's respect through a beyblading match. The reason why Colin didn't respect much guys at school anymore. Losers, the lot of them.  
  
Ah well, the only person who had ever beaten him in the first place was some 20 year old Chinese guy. Wiped Colin's beyblade right off the face of the planet faster than anything the European had ever seen before. After Colin got his own bitbeast though, he doubted that would happen again. And with the new upgrades he had integrated onto his fire-themed blade, Colin was sure to sweep that arrogant smirk of Bradley's face for good.  
  
"Are you done, yet, orphan kid?"  
  
"Shut it, Colin! Why don't you drag those prim legs of yours to the arena already then?"  
  
Bradley shouted back, evidently frustrated with the somewhat prehistoric attack ring catch of his beyblade. Evan, the ever faithful and handy friend, sighed and snatched the white top from his comrade's open palm. The Asian snapped the attack ring backwards and it presently fell off, open and ready for modifications. Bradley was left gaping, pointing up at his pony-tailed buddy and down at the beyblade that was left quite accessible all of a sudden.   
  
"How the hell did you do that?"  
  
Evan shrugged and continued to dismantle Bradley's beyblade, simultaneously replacing outdated parts of the surprisingly complex machine with brand new pieces, fed into his hand by the plump man who had accompanied them. Even Father Matthew stared blankly at his ward's unnatural gift.   
  
"Done. If I calculated correctly, this beyblade's spin ratio has been increased by 126.8%... Give or take a few tenths of a revolution... Sorry about that."  
  
"Er... Whatever. Evan, you're amazing! Let me see my blade!"  
  
Bradley practically slashed air with the speed his hand moved to reclaim his beyblade. He rotated it in his eager palm and examined every inch of it with the scrutiny of a diamond cutter's eye. Evan had practically updated his beyblade from Stone Age to a modern piece of lean mean blade-crushing machine. Now only if Bradley could figure out how to attach it to this neat launcher that their still unnamed companion gave him.  
  
-click-  
  
Okay, now he understood the reason why Evan read all those thick books about machines and the such. The blonde orphan's jaw hung open for a few seconds before jolting back into its rightful place and spewing a generous amount of thanks for Evan. "Evan, you are amazing. I owe you garden duty back at the center."  
  
"Sure, Brad. I despise plants..."  
  
"...Right. I better get going now... I'd hate it if that hotshot had another reason to shout at me."  
  
Bradley commented freely and spun his heel around. He was about to take a step in the general direction of the store's dish, where Colin was waiting, rather impatiently, may I add, when Father Matthew clapped a hand onto his shoulder.   
  
"I should be reprimanding you for your actions today, Bradley, but I'll let it pass for the while. Go in there and show young master Colin what you're made off!"  
  
"Sure I will, Father! I'm going to kick Colin's-"  
  
"Ahem."  
  
"Sorry, Father."  
  
The spirited priest sighed and then grinned in a supportive way at Bradley.   
  
"Just don't forget to be humble, son. After all, everything we have comes from God."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind, Father. I promise."  
  
Father Matthew shrugged and then ruffled the hair of his protégé. Evan rolled his eyes and patted his friend on the back.   
  
"How do I put this into words? ...Uh, go get them, Brad."  
  
Bradley laughed at his tan-skinned friend's social ineptness and jogged to the next room, where the training dish in which he would have his very first beyblading battle lay.   
  
"I'm really sorry about this, Stanley... I know you had a schedule for the day and master Bradley sort of messed it up and all..."  
  
Mr. Dickinson laughed merrily and took of his gray hat, shining it with the edges of his similarly colored shirt's sleeves.   
  
"It's quite all right, Matthew! In fact, this is really exciting! Not only do I get to witness your young and somewhat reckless charge," Mr. Dickinson smiled thoughtfully, remembering how his own former ward, Tyson, acted in years gone by, ",but I also get to observe the local beybladers, in particular, this champion, Colin!"  
  
The aging priest sighed, shook his head and noticed Evan was staring up at him reproachfully.  
  
"Don't stare at me like that! It's not my fault nobody else has a sense of urgency!"  
  
"Pardon me saying this, Father Matthew, but wouldn't the term "worrywart" be more appropriate?"  
  
"...Never you mind, Evan."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
Colin's lips turned into a twisted scowl, a shadow of the polite smile that was on his face but a few minutes ago, as Bradley, trailed by some fat guy he had seen somewhere and two other unknown faces, set foot in the high-ceilinged room. Bradley stared evenly at him as well, his own emerald eyes shimmering with an intense desire to win.   
  
"I was beginning to think you ran away, seeing how long you took in there, Bradley."  
  
"Well, you were wrong then. I'm here and ready to beyblade!"  
  
"Whatever you say."  
  
A bead of sweat dripped down from Bradley's golden bangs and slid down his flushed cheek as the blonde teenager watched his opponent attach his scarlet beyblade to a heavily modified launcher. Maybe he should have kept his big mouth shut after all. Colin looked a lot more formidable with a shiny beyblade and customized launcher. Bradley shook his head and clipped his own pallid-hued blade onto his new spring-loaded launcher. The brown-haired boy standing in front of him glared at him, slowly changing his stance into one of a veteran of the dish. Bradley quickly emulated his would-be enemy.   
  
"Ready there, Brad? You look kind of scared to me." Colin asked, flavoring the word "Brad" with all the venom his tongue could muster.  
  
"Oh yeah? Then that's the second time you've been wrong today, Colin. And don't call me Brad. Only my friends call me that." Bradley snarled back and just as well applied a hint of spite on his rival's name.  
  
Colin's lips slipped into a narrow frown and his eyes did the same. This stupid orphan packed quite a bit of attitude into the blonde head of his. No matter. Losing a battle usually deflates these moronic idiots' egos into nothing more than a popped balloon.   
  
The referee stepped up to the dish, took sideward glances at the two bitter rivals and raised his hand up. Bradley's teeth clenched together as if they had super glue pasted all over them and he couldn't help but tremble a little. This was it.  
  
"Beyblades ready! Three, two, one... LET IT RIP!!!"  
  
The two beyblades, one pure white and the other a fiery gold and crimson, soared into the dish and clashed as one in the center of the fighting arena. The duo then separated and circled the ring like hungry animals.   
  
"He must have upgraded that prehistoric beyblade of his... Otherwise, he would have been knocked out of the dish on my first hit. I better not waste any time here." Colin thought, reflecting on the battle situation. Aside from having an extremely well-built beyblade, his calmness and strategies were one of the traits that made him number one in this small European village.   
  
"Attack! Don't let that loser gain any ground!" He commanded and his beyblade responded instantly.  
  
Bradley swore again as the red blur that was Colin's blade began the offensive and could only watch desperately as his beyblade was pummeled. He had to escape this or his newly fixed blade would be scrap plastic in a few seconds.  
  
"Sharp turn to the right! Shake him off!" Bradley shouted in frustration, to no avail. Colin had far better control over his beyblade than he did.   
  
Colin laughed at Bradley's pathetic attempt to flee his beyblade's wrath. This guy was a complete and total amateur. He might as well go along with his feeble efforts and play kissy kissy for a while. After all, Bradley stood no more of a chance of beating him than a Brazilian tree frog! His scarlet beyblade broke away from its chase and zipped around the simple dish aimlessly.  
  
"You call this a match? Here, Bradley, I'll give your puny blade a chance to attack mine!"  
  
The people who had gathered to watch the battle snickered in unison, expressing amusement over Colin's treatment of the newcomer.   
  
Bradley snarled in reply and sent his beyblade flying after his opponent's. Naturally, Colin's beyblade dodged the attack. Soon enough, the orphan was beginning to wonder if hiding in the institute for a few years would make these people forget his humiliation at the hands of Colin.  
  
This was taking too long. He might as well end this poor boy's misery now. Might as well blast that irritating white beyblade into a smoking pile of plastic and metal already. Colin shook his head and grinned at his sweaty and infuriated foe.   
  
"Your time's up, Bradley! I'll give you a taste of real power! Go, Kaiser!" Colin yelled and a bright blue light wrapped itself around his crimson blade, flooding the room as well with an azure glow.   
  
Bradley stared, awestruck, as a lithe winged dragon began to snake out from the core of Colin's beyblade. Colin laughed at his rival and held a hand out, gesturing towards his rapidly materializing bitbeast.  
  
"This is my power, Bradley! Mine alone!"  
  
And for once, Bradley agreed.  
  
A majestic winged dragon, snake-like yet in a way similar to those of Western legends, soared above the crimson beyblade of his opponent. It had sleek midnight blue scales and a raven black claws that would be more fitting on the edge of the Grim Reaper's scythe. If all those stories Bradley had heard as a kid were true, then he had no more hope of winning this match than of becoming emperor of Japan. He only hoped it didn't breath fire. Too bad.  
  
His white beyblade zipped to the side not a minute too late as a jet of indigo plasma seared the spot where it was but moments ago. In its place lay a patch of melted metal, warped beyond recognition. Bradley needed a miracle no less than the parting of the Red Sea to even survive this one-sided match.  
  
Colin, being an exceptionally bright kid, immediately noticed his opponent's apprehension and couldn't help but gloat about his approaching victory.   
  
"Enjoying the show? Kaiser doesn't only breath fire, you know. He increases the strength and spin speed of my beyblade by around 200%! Why don't you just give up already, Bradley? There's no point in tiring yourself out..."  
  
"Shut up, Colin! I entered this match with my pride intact and I intend to exit that way! I'm in this until the end so keep that thought to yourself, you pompous braggart!"  
  
Colin's eye twitched reflexively and he shook his head in anger. Impudent fool. I'll crush his beyblade into pieces so small he won't be able to find the remains.   
  
"Fine then! Kaiser, charge up a Nova Cannon!" The brown-haired teenager ordered his bitbeast, which presently roared in approval, as it was ready for some destruction.   
  
Kaiser's jaws opened wide and a ball of red hot energy gathered at the base of its mouth, accumulating charged particles from the surrounding area. Bradley could already feel a vibration, a tingling which foreshadowed the mighty blast that was going to impact on his beyblade soon. But he didn't dare entertain the thought of surrounding... He'd show Colin true determination; true fighting spirit!   
  
"Lord Almighty, I hope you can hear me now... Give me the grace to beat Colin, Lord. Show me the way; the way to victory 'cause I'm sticking in this 'til the very end!"  
  
~You are ready, young one~  
  
What are you talking about? I'm about to get steamrolled here!  
  
~Hahaha... True. But not if I help you, youngling~  
  
  
  
Wait! What are you talking about anyways?  
  
  
  
~You are brave, Bradley. I admire that. You shall soon witness my power~  
  
Okay... But what exactly is that power? I doubt you could send a bolt of lightning to blast Colin's blade...  
  
~Close enough~  
  
A brilliant sphere of dazzling light began to grow outwards from Bradley's pocket and the people watching the fight, Colin included, raised their arms up to shield their eyes from the glare.   
  
The rosary that was forgotten in the depths of Bradley's jeans floated above the dish, its centerpiece, the angel carving, emitting a faint white glow that pulsed at an progressively quicker pace. A shapeless light exited the engraved angel chip in a slow manner, constantly shifting, as if adjusting to the outside world.  
  
~My name is Altiel, the Angel of Courage, Bradley. I am your bitbeast~  
  
A beautiful angel materialized from the fluid mass, cloaked in flowing white robes that reached down to the tips of the angel's fingers and toes and up to his nose, concealing his mouth from view. Wings as white as the clouds of heaven and as awe-inspiring as eagles' wings flapped confidently in the air, sending light breezes across the room. His hands grasped a massive sword with an ethereal blue blade that almost seemed like it was shaped from the fabric of the skies. Needless to say, Colin was quite taken aback.  
  
Colin cursed vehemently and his fists clenched even further. This made the battle far more complicated than he had expected. Far more complicated.  
  
"Kaiser, before he figures out how to control his bitbeast, shoot him down! Nova Cannon!"  
  
Bradley, who had fallen flat on his tail end after watching his new ally appear in all his glory, gaped stupidly at the divine warrior who had emerged before him.  
  
~I am yours to command, young one~  
  
Er, okay.  
  
"Quick! Parry that attack, Altiel!" Bradley shouted with newfound vitality and his bitbeast, raising up the breathtaking sword in his hands, soared towards the beam of white-hot fire; the white beyblade following its path.   
  
Altiel's blade came down in a large swooping arc, effectively slicing through the beam and dissipating its energy harmlessly. The icy blue sword came back up again in the blink of an eye and slammed onto the cobalt-scaled chin of Kaiser, knocking out the agile dragon bitbeast. Colin gnashed his teeth and slowly loosened his vise-like fists, realizing the futility of his struggle. Without Kaiser to supplement his beyblade's abilities, he stood no chance against this angelic enemy. The match was over. Bradley had beaten him.   
  
A hushed silence fell over the room's occupants as Colin stooped over to pick up his defeated scarlet beyblade. The brown-haired boy sighed and stood stiffly, pocketing his beyblade. His brown eyes met with the spirited green eyes of the victor and his mouth curled into an approving smile.   
  
"You're pretty lucky to have gotten such a powerful comrade right in the middle of a battle, Bradley. But still, you aren't so bad. I look forward to the next time we battle, orphan."  
  
Colin began to clap for Bradley, who was still sitting on the floor, shocked, and after but a few moments, the audience erupted into tumultuous applause for the triumphant amateur.   
  
~Congratulations, Bradley~  
  
Thanks.  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
End of Chapter 


	5. The Opening

The New Generation  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
Evan had woke up far earlier than his jubilant friend, who was probably muttering something about beating Bradley in his sleep right now. The Asian boy found the quiet hues and softness of mornings to be quite conducive to his meditative thinking, aside from being extremely relaxing. But for him to contemplate properly, it was only fitting for Evan to be hanging around the most desolate room in the entire compound that was St. Joseph's Center for Children, the basement.  
  
He stretched his thin and somewhat underused arms and began rotating his now painted beyblade with deft fingers, talented brown eyes scouring every inch of the top for faults. Not many important ones were spotted though and Evan smiled, satisfied. His blade was now coated in a fairly morbid motif, with jagged black stripes streaking across the white likes lightning bolts and cobalt lines skittered across the raven edges. He had patterned it after his favorite poet, Edgar Allen Poe, and Evan believed that it captured the dark emotions his verses suggested perfectly. In particular, the one about the "prophet of death", the Raven.  
  
"Evan! It's almost time for the tournament qualifying round! Hurry up and come up here!" Sister Anna called up from the upper floors.  
  
He groaned, not bothering to shout a reply. Evan didn't want to strain his voice. His vocal chords were more suited for reciting classical prose, not yelling some petty response. Either way, he picked up his deathly beyblade and pocketed it in one swift motion. No need to waste time as well.  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
Mr. Dickinson was briefing Bradley, who was a bit over-excited, when Evan had gotten upstairs. Bradley had trained for the past week with Evan and was considerably psyched for this battle. Evan had to admit Bradley had become quite adept at controlling Altiel and had a few new techniques primed and ready in his arsenal of moves. It was no surprise Evan, with no bitbeast, had lost almost every single practice match against Brad. Almost.   
  
"Ah! Evan, you've finally come!" Mr. Dickinson said in his favorite jolly voice, addressing the approaching Asian teenager.   
  
"Yes sir."  
  
Evan then nodded in the general direction of his friend, who was running a few last minute checks on his now half-white, half-cobalt beyblade. The blonde adolescent was definitely prepared for combat now.  
  
"Hey, man! This is it! Our shot at the bit time!" Bradley, enthusiasm lighting up his facial features, remarked.  
  
"...Let's make sure our shot's accurate then, Brad."   
  
Bradley laughed optimistically and held up his left hand, which was clutching his pallid beyblade.  
  
"Don't worry, man! There's no way we're going to lose this. Right?"  
  
"I hope you're right."  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
Bradley and Evan, accompanied by both Father Matthew and the excited Mr. Dickinson, stepped into the beyblading tournament arena that the organizers Mr. Dickinson had hired had spruced up and readied for battles on a massive scale. Bradley's voice suddenly escaped him and he drew in a sharp breath as he peered at the fully decked arena, which included chintzy seats, benches for teams and every other essential appliance for the sport. Teenage beybladers mingled with each other in the holding area, discussing strategies and swapping parts as to get an idea of what they would be facing. Some of the more serious ones were purchasing new parts for their blades at the BBA sponsored stall that was set up nearby Bradley and company.   
  
"Do you like our arrangements? My team did a good job of fixing up this place in one week, eh?  
  
Mr. Dickinson inquired and a drop of sweat slipped down Father Matthew's head. The priest shook his head in disbelief and focused his attention on the awestruck orphans he had brought here. The shock of taking all of this in very quickly had not worn off yet, apparently. He smiled and messed up the hair of both of his wards in a supportive way and stared blankly at the sea of young men and women who had gathered here.   
  
"So, Evan, Bradley, are you two ready for this? You can still pull out, you know."  
  
The overzealous blonde looked highly offended for a second but then changed his expression into one of pure, unadulterated excitement.  
  
"Yeah! I've practiced so long for this and I'm not going to get cold feet now!"  
  
"That's good to hear. This tournament wouldn't be worth it if I couldn't drive you into the ground."  
  
Bradley spun around and came face to face with Colin Drake and his entourage of giggling fans, which the former noticed had shrunk in size considerably. I guess many of them had been turned off by the fact a rank amateur had kicked his butt into the next dimension. With the help of his bitbeast, Altiel, of course.  
  
Colin smirked at his blonde rival and folded his arms across his chest, clutching his obviously upgraded beyblade in his right hand. Bradley's eyes narrowed and he quickly ran a mental examination of the russet-haired boy's blade. The attack ring had gotten considerably larger and the material of the weight disk had evidently been replaced.   
  
"Your beyblade looks a lot heavier." Evan commented.  
  
"You're a pretty smart guy. Yeah, I modified it so I could tilt the offense-defense ratio in favor of all-out attack."  
  
"That would make the beyblade unbalanced and nearly impossible to launch. A heavy disk would make your blade collapse under it's own weight."  
  
"Again, you are perfectly correct. However, I also wrapped highly magnetic strips coated with a thin layer of iron near the base of the beyblade. The extreme pull of the bands cause magnetic currents to rotate around my beyblade, thus making it spin faster and longer with less physical effort."  
  
"...That eliminates the weight problem as well, as the magnetic flow would indelibly create an upward force to be exerted on your blade."  
  
Colin raised an eyebrow, clearly amazed by this twelve-year old child's knowledge of science. This Evan was definitely a force to be reckoned with himself. After all, not many people older than him understood the method behind the madness that is his beyblade construction.  
  
Quite understandably, Bradley was beginning to feel left out of this conversation.  
  
"Er, yeah. Okay, Colin, we'll see you a little bit later, all right? We better get prepared for the games and all..." Bradley interrupted, smiling sheepishly and dragging a stone-faced Evan away from Colin.   
  
"Whoa, Evan! Are you sure you don't EAT those physics books of yours?"  
  
"Of course not. That would be highly illogical and tremendously hazardous to my physical well-being."  
  
"I meant... Oh, never mind... Let's go to the waiting area..."  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
"Hey, hey, hey! Welcome to the Blue Knight Regional Tournament qualifying round! Yo people, this is DJ Sandman!"  
  
"And this is Joe Spinner, your two commentators for this competition!"  
  
"Now, may the young upstarts down in the waiting are proceed to their designated stations! Make sure you all don't get stuck in the wrong batch by mistake!"  
  
"Yeah! As you guys can see, these young kids are being separated into four groups: Groups A, B, C and D! This was done to sift out the weak from the strong and draw out the best among this enormous field of beybladers!"   
  
Bradley looked up at the box where the two energetic hosts were chatting animatedly and continued to walk in the general direction of the station for Group B. He had witnessed Colin striding off to Group A and his Asian buddy, Evan, heading straight for Group D. The blonde European had overheard something about the winner of Group B facing off with the respective champion of Group D and had hoped he and Evan would be those two. Of course, if in the unlikely event that would happen, he would make sure he would beat his tan-skinned ally. Then he would move on to the final and most crucial battle against the victor of the A and C match. He figured that would be Colin. But he still had nagging doubt in his mind, as there happened to be some guy in Group C who had been a champion before but had only recently returned to the beyblading scene.   
  
"So, now that we're done with all those trivial formalities, shall we move on to the games?"  
  
A roar of approval surged through the crowd in the stands.  
  
"You hear that, DJ? Looks like we're ready to open the cages and loose the beasts below! Let's get this party started, man!"  
  
Evan recited a short prayer for guidance and opened his eyes, staring at the dozens of kids who now had their launchers aimed at the giant dish prepared for this onslaught of beyblades. There was no turning back now. And there definitely was no losing to be done either. The Asian clamped his beyblade onto his spring-loaded launcher and glared, steely-eyed and poker-faced, at the quite visibly nervous opponents before him. Bitbeast or not, Evan would give more than his very best.  
  
~Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,   
  
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of Yore.  
  
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he,  
  
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-  
  
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-  
  
Perched, and sat, and nothing more~  
  
-Edgar Allen Poe, "The Raven"  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
End of Chapter  
  
This is an easy question! I'll give you peeps one chance each to guess what Evan's bitbeast is! 


	6. Eiras!

The New Generation  
  
pyRO- Sorry, Nightswift! The champ of Group C (Whose name happens to be Devon), isn't going to be the final member of the team! But don't worry, the last guy is mentioned here, although I doubt many of you people will get who it is... ^____^  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only  
  
That one word, as if his soul in that one word did outpour.  
  
Nothing farther then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered-  
  
Till I scarcely more than muttered: "Other friends have flown before-  
  
On the morrow he will leave me as my Hopes have flown before."  
  
  
  
-Then the bird said, "Nevermore"  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
~The Blue Knight Regional Tournament: Elimination Round Scores~  
  
Ranking- Group A:  
  
First place: Colin Drake- 124.6  
  
Second place: Trisha Lyons- 73.2  
  
Third place: Rowan Yang- 71.9  
  
Ranking- Group B:  
  
First place: Bradley (Last name unknown)- 86.5  
  
Second place: Nathan Arcford- 86.3  
  
Third place: Dominick Salve- 84.0  
  
Ranking- Group C:  
  
First place: Devon Rembrandt- 197.6  
  
Second place: Anna Rumino-46.2  
  
Third place: Jason Lemiure- 14.7  
  
Ranking- Group D:  
  
First place: Evan (Last name unknown)- 113.7  
  
Second place: Eva Isley- 80.5  
  
Third place: David Istavan-79.2  
  
Overall rankings:  
  
1)Devon Rembrandt- 197.6 pts   
  
2)Colin Drake- 124.6 pts  
  
3)Evan n/a- 113.7 pts  
  
4)Bradley n/a- 86.5 pts  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
Bradley scowled as he scoped out his ranking on the giant LCD screen that hung from the top of the dome-like beyblading arena. Evan had scored close to 30 points more than him! The blonde orphan shook his head in a frustrated way and began examining the infinitesimal chips and hairline cracks that had appeared on his battered beyblade. Even with Altiel, he had a virtual hell fighting off his opponents, many off which did not have any bitbeasts. Yet Evan, despite his lack of an ally like Bradley's, had managed to pull away with the points in his group and maintained a safe margin over them. The commentators had accordingly described Evan's skill with his beyblade; calling him the man with the invisible bitbeast. There was a lot more to his enigmatic friend than books and machines, apparently.  
  
Colin, as expected, had devastated the field of Group A. The russet-haired beyblader had only encountered but a few minor obstacles on the way to his victory and had quite impressively lived up to the stories surrounding his abilities. Kaiser had made sure of that.   
  
Group C's story however, was a complete surprise to Bradley and the audience that had congregated. Devon Rembrandt had utterly blew away each and every one of his opponents with such speed and precision that an arrow flung from the bow of the Greek Goddess Artemis could not have outraced it. As soon as Devon's bitbeast, an immense lion with a fiery attack and an equally intense ferocity, materialized, more than half of the entire batch had been mowed down and only a few well-designed or protected stragglers remained. It was clear who the winner was in that group.   
  
Anyway, there was time for this later. Bradley decided to scoot over to the washrooms and douse his face with some cold water before the quarterfinals. Seeing how amazingly his roommate performed, he would definitely have to be alert and ready for anything. He might as well get rid of his shock over Evan's sudden increase in ability with a quick splash of icy water in the bathroom too.   
  
But his attention was quickly diverted to another spot once more as he realized the Devon kid was standing but a few meters from his current location, leaning against a wall and buried deep in serious conversation with a brunette girl of around his height. Bradley decided to hang around for some impromptu eavesdropping.   
  
"Come on, Jess! After I win this one, you promise to forget about Leheung and go out with me?"  
  
Bradley's eyes widened and another disgusted scowl spread across his face. This sounded overly emotional for his taste. Ah well, maybe it would be useful as blackmail material in the future.   
  
The brunette girl sighed regretfully and removed a strand of jet black hair from Devon's face, which was stuck on something that looked like desperation. Or spite.  
  
"Leheung gave me his word he would come back... I don't want to break his heart, Devon. Why can't you understand that?"  
  
"But how about mine? I've always been with you, unlike him! The freaking thief took off when he had the slightest of chances! But I've always been right beside you, supporting you, Jessica!"  
  
Devon had slammed his fist on the steel wall, which had some repercussions on the other end. Bradley, whose cheek had been pressed against the wall, had received quite a bit of unwanted and somewhat painful vibrations on his face. The blonde muttered a curse under his breath and continued listening to the conversation.  
  
"All right, Devon... I'll go out with you if you win this tournament." The girl finally replied, with a bit too much of remorse to go unnoticed.  
  
There was the sound of a hand pumping the air triumphantly, as if a contest had been won, and Bradley immediately visualized the black-haired beyblader in a little celebratory dance.  
  
"Then consider it done! No way any of those idiots will be able to stand up to me!"  
  
"Yeah, Devon. I know."  
  
We'll see about that, Mister Rembrandt. We'll see about that...   
  
A grin plastered itself on Bradley's mouth as he walked away, a new goal slowly taking form in his head.  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
"Welcome back folks to the Blue Knight Regional Tournament! This is DJ Sandman again, reminding all of you there isn't any sport like beyblading!"  
  
"You got that right, man! That was certainly proven by the four awesome kids down there who survived the harsh elimination rounds!"  
  
"Survived? Yo Joe, I think you mean TOTALLY DOMINATED the eliminations!"  
  
A frenzied shout rose through the crowd like a tidal wave, filling the arena with intense cheering.  
  
"You're absolutely correct, DJ! Those guys really ripped it up down there! So all you people put your hands together and cheer for the remaining four contestants..."  
  
Below them, Bradley felt a surge of nervousness attack his stomach and his breakfast rose up to his mouth. Thankfully, he had the presence of mind to gulp down the regurgitated slop before it came spilling out of his lips. It was different when you were being cheered as a collective group but now hundreds of people had their eyes trained on him intently, expecting him to do well. He hastily reminded himself that the other guys, Evan, Colin and Devon, were probably experiencing the same thing as well. Oh wait a second... Colin and Devon are obviously enough experienced beybladers so they've already gone through this process and Evan is, well, Evan so he doesn't really feel much emotion... Guess he was in this tension thing by himself. He had to pull himself together before he battled his best buddy. After all, Bradley expected to give Evan a real display of skill.  
  
"Getting cold feet, Bradley? Jesus Christ, man, you look sick." Colin commented, his mouth twisted into a lopsided grin.   
  
"No way! I just ate a bit too fast at breakfast today."  
  
"Yeah, right."  
  
Bradley stuck his tongue out at Colin before puffing his chest out and looking prepared for battle. He better not let Colin see his weakness again. The brown-haired beyblader laughed quietly and shook his head before confidently striding over to the dish where he would be battling against Devon Rembrandt.   
  
"Idiot... He's going to get creamed by that other dude."  
  
The blonde European chuckled at this and stuck his hand into his pocket, wriggling out his blue and white beyblade, along with the translucent rosary that gave him Altiel. He figured a bit of luck might do him well in this tournament. He clasped these two items tightly and then began walking towards his buddy, Evan, who was adjusting something on his beyblade. The brown-skinned and black-haired twelve year old boy looked up from his work and wore an expression of disdainful amusement on his face. It sure looked like the fact Bradley had scored less than him had not escaped Evan.  
  
"Hello, Brad... Guess we really made it to the top, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, but don't expect me to go easy on you just 'cause we're best friends, all right?"  
  
"Likewise."  
  
Both orphans laughed and entered their respective beyblading stances. Bradley grinned at his competitor, who did the same. They weren't going to settle for anything except the very best from each other. And in doing so, they would definitely give more than their 100% effort.   
  
"Beybladers ready!"  
  
Their muscles tightened and both orphans could feel adrenaline pumping through their veins  
  
"3"  
  
Bradley's eyes narrowed and he his hands tightened their grip on the launcher and rip cord  
  
"2"  
  
A strange, euphoric stream of power poured into Evan and a demented grin appeared on his face  
  
"1, let it rip!!!"  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
The two blades exploded outward, flying into the beyblade arena at full speed and crashing into each other with the force of a cannon. They both zipped backwards and came back again like rockets, slicing the smooth steel interior of the combat dish. They streaked back and forth, igniting sparks that lit up their immediate surroundings.   
  
Bradley gritted his teeth in frustration as he watched his friend, whom he so easily defeated before, counter his lightning fast advances with an even display of offense and defense. Evan had gotten considerably more powerful in such a short period of time... He had better summon Altiel and finish this before the fellow orphan boy began beating him back.  
  
"Hey, Evan, you're not doing so bad! But I still won't let you win! Go, Altiel!" Bradley shouted.  
  
The majestic angel appeared from the center of the now glowing bit chip of Bradley's azure beyblade and unsheathed its translucent sword from its side. Its giant eagle wings beat the air gracefully and elevated the bitbeast's masculine figure a few good meters into the air.  
  
Evan's lips creased into a thin scowl. Bradley had superb control over Altiel and it was beginning to look like the scales of war were tipping in his blonde-haired friend's favor. Still, during their somewhat one-sided practice matches, Evan had observed and studied one major flaw with Bradley's angelic bitbeast. Today, he was going to see if his theory was right...  
  
"Go! Get out of there!" Evan commanded and his black, blue and white blade complied without delay; veering away from the empowered beyblade of his opponent.   
  
"Altiel, attack!" Bradley ordered in response to his foe's maneuver and his blade quickly chased after Evan's, returning to a dominative stance.   
  
The cobalt beyblade charged towards Evan's morbidly designed one, ready to knock it right out off the arena. Yet, in a startling show of precision, the black and blue beyblade of Evan suddenly slid to the right, completely evading the cumbersome attack of Altiel.   
  
"Wha?!?" Bradley spat out, totally taken aback by Evan's ingenious trick.  
  
"Now! Take him down!"   
  
Evan's beyblade made a quick adjustment in its trajectory and slammed onto the disoriented white and blue blade of his stunned opponent, nearly throwing it out off the dish in that one attack.   
  
But Brad's and the crowd's eyes weren't on the sudden change in balance and were instead fixed on the bit chip of Evan's beyblade, which was shooting miniature lightning bolts as dark as the darkest night into the air.   
  
Evan's heartbeat quickened to a nearly inhuman pace, pulsing to the beat of another being that had somehow taken residence in him. He let out a feral shout, echoed by a shrill, beastly roar, and collapsed onto one knee as a dark mist enveloped him completely; shrouding his body like a veil.   
  
A raven of immense proportions, just slightly smaller than Altiel, shrieked in its high-pitched voice as it flew outward from the cloaking fog that had materialized and soared around the beyblading dish. It circled the robed angel of Bradley once and released another strident scream in its direction before zooming into the glowing core of Evan's beyblade.   
  
"Dear God..." Bradley garbled, in awe of the phenomenal event that had just taken place.   
  
~This is completely unbelievable... The Raven breed was supposed to have died out...~  
  
Then without warning, the mists surrounding Evan dissipated and the black-haired orphan was on his feet, holding his right arm out stiffly.  
  
"Eiras, attack him... Temporal Lightning!"  
  
~My pleasure... hahaha...~  
  
The ethereal raven flapped its jet black wings and storm clouds grew over the arena, covering the entire dish in darkness. Unexpectedly, black bolts of hellish energy roared down from the smoky hazes that hovered above and completely vaporized the parts of the dish nearby Altiel and Bradley's beyblade.   
  
"Holy-!!! Altiel, deflect the lightning! Execute Divine Intervention!"  
  
Altiel swung his sword in short arcs, overcoming the intense power emanating from those bolts with a few slashes and transforming them into a shower of cascading sparks. However, another flash of dark energy zoomed down towards his back and he whirled around at the last moment, raising his free left hand. An otherworldly shield made of wispy white light materialized and absorbed the impact.  
  
"Now, return fire!" Bradley commanded as his bitbeast opened the palm of his outstretched left hand, releasing a beam of intense light.   
  
"Dark Equinox..."  
  
A silver, liquid portal appeared in front of the raven and literally ate up every single particle of Altiel's attack and returned it to him, hitting him square in the chest. The angelic bitbeast gasped and clutched his smoking chest before glaring steely-eyed at his immeasurably powerful opponent.   
  
"Altiel! I'm pulling out of this, man! There's no way we can beat Evan's bitbeast!"  
  
Evan laughed coldly, his once spirited brown eyes shimmering with a cold, icy glow.  
  
"Ah, but you are mistaken. Eiras, fabricate!"  
  
Just like his other attacks, a ghostly cage of dark pulsing matter burst from the edges of the arena, effectively trapping all who were in it. Evan smiled mockingly at the antics of his opponent and snapped his fingers in an imperious manner.   
  
"Eiras, Twilight Burst attack now."  
  
Eiras, flew upwards, high above the caged Altiel and shrieked once more, before opening its razor sharp beak and unleashing a concentrated blast of black energy straight at Brad's beyblade and bitbeast.  
  
~No! I cannot let this happen!~  
  
Altiel streaked upwards, cutting air with both his wings and his sword as he readied to parry the nigh unstoppable onslaught. His azure blade sliced downwards, effectively diverting the main brunt of Eiras' attack to the dish, parts of which turned into charred craters and melted dents. However, the angel bitbeast was unable to impede enough of the strike and took a gigantic hit again on his chest. He presently dropped his icy sword, which dematerialized immediately, and fell to his knees, right in front of Bradley's spinning beyblade.   
  
Altiel! Return to the bit chip already! I can't risk having you destroyed! I can fight alone!  
  
~No... The power of this Raven is far too great for any mortal to battle... I shall end this!~  
  
What? You idiot! Head back now, Altiel!  
  
"Altiel!!!" Bradley shouted in despair as Eiras, talons glinting maliciously in the light, screamed piercingly and zoomed straight for his defiant bitbeast, who was chanting something under his breath. Evan's beyblade too, finally straying from its stationary position, streaked towards Bradley's relatively battered beyblade. It looked like all was lost for him now.  
  
Then suddenly, Altiel stood up, creating a shockwave that knocked the rapidly closing blade and talons away and raised up his right arm and now empty hand to the heavens.   
  
"You shall not defeat me, messenger of doom! I am Altiel, Angel of Courage! See if you can overcome my power! Heaven's Wrath!!!"  
  
A bright flash engulfed the arena and exploded outwards, sweeping both Evan and Bradley off their feet. Then, just as quickly as it had come, the light disappeared, leaving no trace of both raven and angel. Only Bradley's beyblade, smoking and barely spinning, remained alive in the ring.  
  
A tense silence followed, both beybladers stunned beyond words. Evan, his body still reeling from the pure power that flowed in him but a few seconds ago and Bradley, amazed at Altiel's amazing comeback from the depths of defeat. Oh, and the angel bitbeast actually said something that wasn't in his head.  
  
Then applause shattered the silence as the crowd, who had grown bored with Colin's helplessness in front of Devon, cheered for both orphans, who had shown their own version of bravery and determination in face of nearly insurmountable odds.  
  
Bradley stood up, his feet wobbly and weak. He figured Altiel must have sapped him off some of his spirit in order to pull off that destructive attack.   
  
~Augh... We should check on your friend, youngling. Eiras might have altered him permanently~  
  
Yeah... Nice move by the way.  
  
~Thank you, young master. You yourself showed great calmness in the face of such power~  
  
Thanks too then.   
  
The victorious blonde then walked over to his friend, who was still crouched on the floor, clutching his stomach and chest simultaneously.   
  
"Hey, Evs. You need some help there? Evan?"  
  
His friend was laughing hysterically, clasping his burned beyblade in his left hand; his eyes holding a manic glint to them.  
  
"That... felt... so... good... So much power... flowing in me... So much... power!" He croaked, before bursting into his insane laughter as if he was still possessed by the dark form of the Raven, Eiras.   
  
Bradley took a step forward, a grim frown cemented on his face, and promptly hit Evan right on the head.   
  
"Ow... What was that for?"  
  
"Nothing much, Evan. Consider it a wake up call back to reality, Mister Nutcase!"  
  
"Oh, sorry... It just felt so amazing. I couldn't help myself to Eiras' power."  
  
"Well then, you better learn to control that raven of yours next time! You could seriously hurt someone with such a strong bitbeast!"  
  
"All right... Thanks, Brad."  
  
"No problem. Quick! I want to gloat to Colin! Hehehehe..."  
  
"..."  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
End of Chapter  
  
Yep, Evan's bitbeast is a Raven all right! A pretty strong one too! ^___^ Next up, Bradley takes on Devon without Altiel, who is still drained from performing the double-edged Heaven's Wrath technique! 


	7. Time for the Finals!

The New Generation  
  
Sorry for the exceedingly delayed update. I spent my Christmas holidays in Australia! That doesn't mean I wasn't planning out my fic though... Answer to an earlier question by Nightswift (again ^___^;): Yep, the Chinese guy who originally beat Colin was Ray. He's out of college now though and is happily married. More on him in the Asian Tournament segment of this story... A no-prize to however can figure out who he's married to!   
  
Happy New Year!  
  
Disclaimer: I still don't own beyblade, but I'm working on it!  
  
===================================  
  
Quarterfinals Ranking  
  
Bradley n/a  
  
vs. Bradley n/a  
  
Evan n/a X  
  
------------  
  
Colin Drake X  
  
vs. Devon Rembrandt  
  
Devon Rembrandt  
  
-----------  
  
Bradley n/a  
  
vs. Champion  
  
Devon Rembrandt   
  
===================================  
  
Bradley, stretching his tired arms, walked over to his relaxed friend, Evan, at a leisurely pace and dropped into a chair beside him. Evan had his arms crossed behind his head and was staring into the ceiling, looking far more untroubled than when his new and arguably formidable bitbeast had somehow contaminated him with the venom of nearly unlimited power. The pony-tailed teenager removed his attention from the air above them and stared poker-faced at his fellow orphan.   
  
"I just watched the recording of Colin's battle against Devon."  
  
"I know." The blonde beyblader replied in a weary way. After all, why shouldn't he be fatigued?  
  
"Devon has abilities far beyond yours."  
  
"I know."  
  
"The chances of you losing are nearly at ninety percent."  
  
"I know."  
  
"All right then... Altiel cannot fight because of a stamina drain."  
  
"WHAT?!?"  
  
Bradley stood up faster than the blink of an eye and gaped at his calm ally. Evan nodded in a monotone way before removing his arms from their relaxed position and reaching into his pocket. He pulled out his damaged beyblade and motioned to the feebly glowing bit chip that housed Eiras.  
  
"Eiras was almost completely sapped of his energy reserves, which, may I add, are quite large, after your bitbeast's devastating attack. I concluded Altiel, who had fought the elimination rounds and the final matches right after each other, might have lost a greater amount of power..."  
  
"So this is all just one of your educated guess things?" Bradley asked, skeptical.  
  
"In truth, yes... But there is no real way of telling if Altiel is indeed worn out. I only assumed Eiras' drain because he appears to have established a symbiotic link with me. I feel just as exhausted as my bitbeast is."  
  
"Aw, c'mon, man! I can talk to my bitbeast, remember?"  
  
"You never mentioned that..." Evan shot back, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Good point." Bradley admitted whilst pulling out his own beyblade out from his jeans' pocket.  
  
"...Ask Altiel."  
  
Bradley nodded and closed his eyes. Normally, it was Altiel who would be trying to contact him but he guessed it could work in reverse as well.   
  
~You don't have to close your eyes~  
  
Bradley's olive green eyes shot open once more and he grinned sheepishly. Evan, his short ponytail bobbing up and down, cocked his head to the side curiously and waved a hand in front of his blonde friend.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Wait, I'm talking with him..."  
  
~Well, what is you want to ask me, master Bradley?~  
  
You do know your attack practically removed all the spirit from Eiras, right?  
  
~Of course. It wouldn't be satisfying if it didn't~  
  
Er, did you happen to experience the same thing?  
  
~Hahaha... Well, I actually didn't have enough power for it so...~  
  
That would explain my decrease in energy.  
  
~Yes~  
  
But are you combat capable? Technically, I still have one fight to go...  
  
~Then I'm sorry, you'll be in this alone~  
  
Bradley's mouth curled into a scowl and he punched Evan lightly on the Asian's smallish left shoulder.  
  
"You're right."  
  
Evan shrugged and walked off in the direction of the bathroom, tucking his tri-colored beyblade into his pocket. The pony-tailed boy then waved stiffly at his friend, smiling a tiny, unseen smile.  
  
"I guess..."  
  
===================================  
  
  
  
Colin swore loudly as he collapsed onto a leather couch that lay close to him. In the span of one month, he had been defeated twice already. Not that he hadn't tried to prevent the second one from happening by training intensely since his first loss... But all those weeks of practice were blown away in an instant by some half-baked nutcase who had suddenly decided to have his comeback or something.  
  
"Hell!" The brown-haired boy exclaimed in frustration then glared angrily at the passing girl, who presently scampered away from the infuriated beyblader.  
  
He muttered a few more curses under his breath before relaxing slightly and sinking into the cushions of the sofa. Colin's mind then began to slip away into a meditative trance, organizing the events that led to his humiliating failures. He had been insulted by some new kid called Bradley and challenged the obvious novice to a battle... As his theory suggested, Bradley was indeed a complete rookie and he had dominated the balance of power in the first half of the match. However, the blonde orphan managed to extract a powerful angel bitbeast from a rosary he was given and overcome Kaiser's immense strength.  
  
Next, he had entered his semifinal match against Devon Rembrandt, a guy he had only recently heard about, full of confidence. But this beyblader had talents beyond his imagination; a bitbeast of unbelievable vigor and techniques he had only witnessed on professional beyblade matches. Not unlike that guy who had creamed him years ago. Just a few seconds into the battle and Colin was certain he was going to lose. Even Kaiser, who had gotten far more powerful in the past few weeks, was unable to even impede the progress of his enemy's onslaught...  
  
A noisy clang interrupted his thoughts and his light brown eyes shot open, narrowed in suspicion.   
  
Colin got up and rushed to the corner of the wall that was positioned adjacent to a nearby corridor, only to find a shiny new beyblade, crimson and gold, just like his, lying unattended on the floor. His left eyebrow went up and he walked cautiously toward the device. He squatted and picked up the beautifully made beyblade, its edges in perfect synergy with one another, with his right hand, running his left one through his hair in astonishment.  
  
Consider this a gift from our society, Colin Drake.  
  
-The Devoted  
  
===================================  
  
"YO! It's time for the final showdown of this amazing tournament, folks! Once again, this is DJ Sandman!"  
  
"And Joe Spinner, bringing you every last juicy drop of the fantastic beyblading!"  
  
"Right you are, dude! We've had some awesome events in the past hour; classic stuff!"  
  
"Take the semifinal round between the two orphans from our very own St. Joseph's Center for Children, Bradley and Evan!"  
  
"Evan sure put on quite a show with his brand new raven bitbeast but the Brad-man held up and managed to beat him in the end!"  
  
"Woohoo, that was some match, wasn't it?"  
  
"Yes it was! Completely unlike the other semifinal round between hometown hero, Colin Drake, and comeback champ, Devon Rembrandt!"  
  
"OH yeah, man... Devon just thrashed Colin in that battle! Reltion, Devon's lion bitbeast, steamrolled good old Kaiser flatter than pancake!"  
  
"Now though, it's gonna be a far more balanced match! Bradley's determination against Devon's sheer force!"  
  
"Eh... Balanced? I think the scales are tipped in Devon's favor..."  
  
Bradley grimaced as he listened to the conversation between the two hyperactive commentators. Standing out here in front of the expectant crowd and his impressively skilled opponent, the blonde orphan already felt defeated and hopelessness begun to seep through him. He had but a tiny chance of vanquishing Devon with Altiel and now that his bitbeast was recovering from his previous battle that puny window of opportunity had been shut. But despite this, he wasn't going to go without a fight. He had come this far and there was no way in hell he was going to give up.  
  
"Hey, Brad. Good luck!" Evan shouted from the sidelines, offering a flat sort of smile.  
  
Bradley smiled back in an equally fake way before turning back to face Devon with a similarly transparent scowl, trying to hide his apprehension.   
  
Devon grinned malevolently , seeing right through Bradley's obvious attempt to disguise his fear.  
  
'Now this, is going to be fun'  
  
===================================  
  
End of Chapter 


	8. Bittersweet

The New Generation  
  
pyro- okies, this chapter is gonna be a really big turning point in the fic cuz right after this they- ah, never mind. Let's just say it's really important! It'll answer a few questions too...  
  
Ding dong! No-prize to Nightswift!  
  
==================================  
  
Bradley held his launcher out in front of him, his eyes reflecting the fear he held with him...  
  
'Now that I think about it... This is my first real battle...'  
  
"Beybladers, ready!"  
  
'I haven't won any match without Altiel's help... '  
  
"3..."  
  
'So now, without him by my side...'  
  
"2..."  
  
'I stand before my greatest trial so far...'  
  
"1..."  
  
'Cool.'  
  
"LET IT RIIIIIPPPP!!!"  
  
Bradley tugged on the end of his launcher's rip cord with all the strength he could muster from his arms, losing himself and his doubts; his apprehension, in the heat of battle. His white and blue blade sped outwards, roaring and cutting through the tense air. It skated across the metal dish with surprising grace and kept a wide gap between it and Devon's own scarlet and jet black beyblade.   
  
Devon chortled and took a quick step backward, giving himself a better view of the match.  
  
"C'mon, Bradley! Stop playing games with me and attack!" He shouted, taunting the unusually concentrated beyblader who stood a few meters away from him.  
  
But the blonde teenager's focus shut out Devon's comment and remained only alert, hunting for the opportunity; the window in time when he would do best to strike. He would have to take a leaf out of Evan's book if he truly wanted to win this battle because now, with his raw power, in the form of Altiel, recovering, he needed strategy more than anything else.   
  
His beyblade zipped away, barely escaping unscathed as Devon's own blade came down on it in vicious swipes. Then it came back up again, turning sharply, and made a pass once more. Bradley's beyblade reflexively swooped over to the side but this time, collided partially with the attack ring of Devon's blade, knocking it slightly away.  
  
Bradley gritted his teeth and felt sweat drip down his left cheek. He wiped it off hastily, his eyes remaining glued to the battle and muttered under his breath,  
  
"If I don't find an opening soon, I'll be done for..."  
  
The entire match, as Evan had suggested to him, was to be like a sort of cat and mouse struggle. If he managed to delay the seemingly inevitable long enough, Devon might commit a careless mistake and fall open, easy prey even for a beyblade without any bitbeast backing it up. But if Bradley made one stupid move of his own and let Devon get a direct hit on his blade, Bradley would be unable to flee with enough spin force to last the rest of the match and Reltion would finish the match...  
  
Then suddenly, as Bradley was contemplating his next move, Devon's blade descended towards its opponent, cutting through the dish in large, scything arcs which seemed to have been done to confuse Bradley as to where the next attack would come from. The surprise maneuver had its desired effect and the blade that housed Reltion scored another quick blow on the side of the frantically evading beyblade of Bradley. The blonde orphan's blade wobbled precariously before sliding to the opposite side of the arena; a futile attempt to escape the calculated wrath of his highly skilled foe.   
  
'Aw, c'mon mate... That was a pretty stupid move.' The black-haired boy thought, shaking his head at the imprudent maneuver of his opponent.  
  
So naturally, Devon found this to be another easily read tactic and sent his own beyblade flying towards Bradley's in the same exaggerated movements it had just previously done...  
  
"To hell with this strategy! Counterattack, now!" Bradley suddenly yelled at the top of his lungs, stunning both Devon and the boy's beyblade for but a few crucial moments...  
  
Bradley's white and blue beyblade suddenly cut for Devon's, gliding over the dish like a falcon that had spotted its prey, slamming into the vulnerable black blade that had stopped in mid-attack. Its balance shattered, the obsidian-colored top was promptly knocked into the air, reflecting the bright lights that shone upon it, before crashing down and spinning feebly at the edge of the dish.  
  
Adrenaline flooded Bradley, his hope renewed, as he flung his arm back and shouted at his beyblade,  
  
"Now, knock him out of the arena!"  
  
"NO! Reltion, take him down! Liger Storm!" Devon screamed out, summoning his bitbeast into the arena.  
  
The breath-taking form of the crimson lion that emerged from the center of Devon's beyblade held Bradley's breath for but a moment, as the orphan stared at the majestic splendor of his opponent's bitbeast. But all his awe disappeared just as quickly as the lion roared heaven-ward, calling for red lightning bolts, streaked with black tendrils of dark energy, that burned the air with their rancid, electrical stench. These sky-sent weapons fell towards Bradley's beyblade, which presently executed evasive techniques to dodge their assault, and obliterated sections of the dish in blinding flashes of light.  
  
"C'mon, just a bit more to Devon's blade!"  
  
"Reltion! Stop him NOW!"  
  
Then, just before Bradley's white and blue streak of a beyblade was able to connect attack ring with attack ring in a final attempt to snatch victory from Devon's hands, one bolt collided directly with the orphan's beyblade, shattering all but its bit chip into shards of metal and melted plastic.  
  
Bradley collapsed to his knees in astonishment as his only beyblade fell apart before him as if in slow motion, completely destroyed by that final streak of lightning. The harsh clang of the falling metallic bits of his cracked weight disc snapped him back to the painful reality of losing, bringing the unpleasant truth right before his watery eyes. He had came so close; so close to defeating Devon when triumph was stolen from his grasp...  
  
"I lost..."  
  
Devon punched the air in celebration, his beyblade responding to his thoughts and zooming out of the dish into his other, waiting hand.   
  
"Yeah! I won! Jesus Christ, that was a close one." He yelled victoriously, elated by the defeat of the one challenger who had just enough skills to contend with him.  
  
"Brad."  
  
"Yo, Bradley!"  
  
"Brad."  
  
"HEY! GET UP, STUPID!" Colin kicked the still stunned Bradley in the side, earning a yelp of combined surprise and pain from the defeated beyblader. The adolescent boy shook his head in recognition of defeat and raised his head a notch, meeting the stern, almost emotionless chestnut eyes of Evan and the similarly brown ones of Colin Drake.  
  
"You came within reach of victory. I apologize for the failure of my ill-designed strategy." Evan, despite his tremendously large vocabulary, said in a robotic way, as if trying hard to find the words to console Bradley.  
  
Bradley shook his blonde head one more time and shrugged.  
  
"Well, I can't expect to win all the time." He muttered and got up slowly, wiping some dust that had accumulated on his plain white shirt away simultaneously.  
  
Colin rolled his eyes but helped his one-time rival get up anyway.  
  
"Guess we all learned that now, huh? Hurry up, numbskulls, the awarding starts soon."  
  
The brown-haired boy said rather impatiently. Bradley laughed mirthfully, his old self returned, and jabbed Colin in the ribs.  
  
"Ow! What was that for, loser?"  
  
"For kicking me and being impatient."  
  
"Jeez..."  
  
==================================  
  
Bradley shifted uncomfortably as he stood on the second-placer spot, casting a nervous glance down at Colin and Evan, who shared the third place position, much to the former's discontent.   
  
"Can you move a little, Evan? It's cramped enough standing down here..." Colin remarked, throwing a spiteful gaze at the considerably higher platform for the first placer, Devon. Evan edged a bit more and his brown-haired companion thanked him absentmindedly, his eyes still affixed on the elusive first place spot.  
  
"Hey, guys, pipe down! The judges, referees, or whatever they are, are coming already!" Bradley hissed and the two beybladers standing just slightly lower than him fidgeted apprehensively.  
  
"Hmm... Good point. I notice the gold medal is larger than the silver one. Do you, Bradley?" Devon commented snidely but Bradley paid no attention to him, his eyes focused on the cheerful-looking man walking beside the people carrying the awards...  
  
"In the name of the Father..." Bradley muttered, receiving two questioning looks from both Evan and Colin.  
  
"AAAAaaand now, the moment of truth has arrived! The awarding of our equally fantastic winners!"  
  
Colin rolled his eyes again.  
  
"That's right, Joe, my man! And to make it even sweeter for these champions, we have on heck of a cool guy here to present the medals!"  
  
"So everybody in the house, put your hands together for the one, the only, the invincible former World Champion Tyson Kinomiya of the Bladebreakers!"  
  
A storm of applause greeted the world-famous Bladebreaker, who, after defeating the Demolition Boys and Team Psykick, had achieved an almost deity-like status in the world of beyblading. Of course, his fame was only matched by his equally renowned teammates, who, like him, were probably somewhere else enjoying their good fortune.   
  
Tyson grinned widely and scratched the area under his nose habitually before waving at the fanatical crowd inside the dome. Aside from becoming a worldwide sensation and idol to many youngsters, including quite a large amount of the kids who had gathered for this particular tournament, he, for some strange and mysterious reason, had turned into a veritable girl magnet, much to the demise of the now hospitalized Kai. The Russian himself, laughing hysterically in a most uncharacteristic display of amusement, had swore he would drink a jug full of mud and snow if Tyson, who had brought up the subject, had even one girl approach him.  
  
Back at the podium, Bradley's mouth hung open, loosely swaying with the slight breeze inside the arena, gaping at his number one idol of all time. He blinked stupidly for a couple of moments before gathering his composure again and standing as stiffly as possible, trying to make himself less noticeable to Tyson. And probably appear less stupid as well.  
  
The blue-haired beyblader walked up to Evan, whose face remained as immovable as stone, and raised one of his eyebrows, staring appraisingly at the Asian, wondering what to think of the stoical boy. He shook his head, grinned and hung the bronze medal around Evan's neck.  
  
"You can't blade properly if you act like that!" He commented and Evan shrugged.  
  
"Same to you then."   
  
He replied casually and Tyson laughed before proceeding to a remarkably composed Colin.  
  
"You have a strong bitbeast, kid. Maybe we could go head to head one time and see who has the better dragon!" Tyson stated cheerfully, hanging the second bronze medal across Colin's neck.  
  
The brown-haired boy rolled his eyes impudently and shrugged as Tyson passed him and moved on to Bradley, who was still acting like some weird statue. "Why not? It would be cool to win again."   
  
The Bladebreaker finally walked up to the visibly nervous Bradley and held out his right as the left one contained the silver medal and couldn't be used. The blonde orphan cracked a weak smile, sweat dripping down his face and took Tyson's extended hand, shaking it with his own.  
  
"You're really good for a kid who battled without his bitbeast."  
  
"Thanks!" Bradley scratched the back of his head, and then added, "I sorta blew it at the end though. Now my beyblade's totally busted."  
  
"Hey man, no worries!" Tyson reached into his pocket and held out a silvery blue and red beyblade. "This used to be my blade but you can have it. After all, I don't really need it much anymore!"  
  
Tyson laughed in a hollow way, thinking of what would happen to him in the future, as he had no more beyblading to look forward to. Bradley's emerald eyes widened and he slowly reached out for the beyblade that once housed the legendary Dragoon, his fingers running carefully down its attack ring and eventually wrapping themselves around it. He stared down at the shiny beyblade for a moment, before looking back up at the former World Champion and stammering his gratefulness.  
  
"Wow... I mean, thanks a lot! This is so cool!"   
  
"Like I said, no worries! If I ever need a blade I'll just get a new one anyway." Tyson laughed again. "Nice part about being really famous and rich and all that crap..."  
  
Tyson stared wistfully at the ceiling for a while, reminiscing his past as a nobody, before grinning and scratching the underside of his nose once more.   
  
"Congratulations again! I know you're going to go far."  
  
"...Great, now I'm embarrassed and everything..."  
  
==================================  
  
A few minutes later, Mr. Dickinson walked up to the four somewhat successful adolescents and clapped in approval.  
  
"Now, I must say that was a truly amazing display of your individual talents!" He commented, sincerely praising the four young men.  
  
Colin rolled his eyes one more time and took a step forward, folding his arms across his chest.  
  
"Yeah, that's great and all but aside from these medals, what's in it for us?" He asked and Bradley, who had forgotten the real reason behind his joining the competition in the first place, coughed in surprise, remembering what was going to happen... Evan too, appeared to have realized the reward that awaited them.  
  
"Why, Master Colin, I'm glad you asked just that! You see, you four are going to go professional as a team. Of course, I will be the one sponsoring your efforts!" He replied.  
  
Without warning, Devon, who had been leaning against the wall of the dimly lit corridor they were standing in, laughed condescendingly before standing straight up and raising one of his eyebrows.  
  
"You mean, you three. You see, I already am professional. I happen to be part of the team representing Australia in the World Championships. Hey, mates, over here!" The tall black-haired boy remarked, as if entertained by his tree competitors' bewilderment at this development.   
  
The brunette girl Bradley had overhead talking with Devon before walked up to where the tournament champion was standing, staring at her feet in a depressed sort of way. Along with her came two of the tallest guys the blonde orphan had ever laid eyes on, striding confidently up to the spot where their comrades were.   
  
"This is my team, Wild Pack. I do hope I haven't disappointed you guys." Devon stated in a sarcastic way before jerking his head in the general direction of the dome's exit and beginning to walk away arrogantly, his troop of beybladers following like obedient dogs.   
  
Colin shouted a few vulgar words back at the triumphant Devon and swore a bit more.  
  
"Arrogant bastard. Who does he think he is?" At this, Evan coughed loudly.  
  
Mr. Dickinson shook his head and sighed in regret before walking along the same hallway Devon had just taken. He tapped his cane impatiently and turned his head, facing the three remaining winners.  
  
"What are you waiting for? It is considerably harder entering a team of three members into the World Championships..." He said and the trio of surprised beybladers immediately scurried off to where he was.   
  
Bradley grinned and clutched his new beyblade in his hand. He stared at Colin, who was debating angrily with Evan, who obviously had the upper hand, thanks to his confusing usage of words and deep intelligence. Even in losing he had found something worth celebrating about.  
  
For at long last, he had found a family.  
  
==================================  
  
End of Chapter and of Part I: The Blue Knight Tournament  
  
Next Chapter: As they wait for their plane to finish its stop over and continue its journey for Australia, Bradley's wallet is stolen and he ends up chasing the thief all around the airport! This marks the beginning of the real story and the international tournaments! Part II: The Australian Tournament! 


	9. Pickpocket

The New Generation  
  
Sorry for the long delay. Track practice is eating up my free time. Thankfully though, I don't have any one weekends so I can write then. Read it and enjoy! ~pyro  
  
=============================  
  
John F. Kennedy International Airport, New York, United States of America...  
  
A red-haired adolescent boy leaned against the glass panes of JFK International Airport's massive windows, staring blankly over his shoulder, which gave him a pleasant view of the airplanes which just recently arrived. It had been quite an off season... Three exhibition tournaments and no less than fourteen challenges. At least those matches, which had turned in his favor, had earned his team quite a bit of respect from the other international beyblading squads. Speaking of which...  
  
"Good morning, Mitchell. I assume your Lear jet is ready to depart for Australia?"  
  
Mitchell cocked his head to one side. In front of him was probably the most impeccably dressed female in the entire world. With such a wonderfully stiff smile too. Well, it must run in her family, seeing as they descended from a bunch of rich French guys.  
  
"Yo, Irei! Haven't seen you in ages! How's the team doing?"  
  
The girl shifted her gaze to her fellow beybladers, her neck long brown hair bouncing in a severe manner after her.  
  
"No need for small talk. I'd rather be early for the season opening..." Irei snapped.  
  
Mitchell shrugged and signaled to one of his own teammates to carry the bags of their British beyblading compatriots.   
  
"...Okay... The trip won't take long, seeing as our Lear jet is so state-of-the-art and all!"  
  
"You actually share your jet? I thought you Americans had more class. Hurry up."  
  
"...Vampire..."  
  
===========================  
  
"Whoa, man! I got to level 27 already!"   
  
Bradley exclaimed rather loudly. Colin, who was sitting beside the somewhat overactive beyblader scowled and groaned, burying his head in the pillow. The three champions of the Blue Knight competition were finally taking their first official trip as pros via private airplane and Colin had the great misfortune of being seated next to Bradley, who was soaking up every bit of their flight. In particular, the small TV set he had gotten which appeared to be equipped with a bunch of video games.  
  
"Oh, shut up already, moron." Colin grumbled, irritated.  
  
The blonde orphan grinned and reclined further into the comfortable chair of the airplane, continuing to play the game on the miniature screen, much to his brown-haired companion's exasperation.  
  
"For crying out loud, man... At least turn the volume down!"  
  
"Jeez, spoilsport... Fine then."  
  
Meanwhile, sitting just two seats across them, Evan stared intently into the pulsing bit chip of his beyblade, frowning slightly. In the day that had passed before they took the airplane heading for the beyblade season opening in Australia, he had mastered his bitbeast and had established a form of communication far more complex than the one Bradley had achieved. Aside from being able to converse with his bitbeast, Evan was also capable of somehow sharing the emotions of his immensely powerful raven, Eiras.   
  
And right now, he was feeling quite nervous.  
  
"Yo, Evs! What's wrong with you? You haven't touched that book you brought along, man!" Bradley asked.  
  
The pony-tailed Asian shook his head and pocketed his beyblade with some hesitation. He then picked up his preposterously thick book and began to read, quickly forgetting his unfound anxieties.   
  
===========================  
  
Bradley sprinted ahead of the rest of his teammates to where Mr. Dickinson was standing, grinning madly with the air of an over-excited kid in a candy store. Maybe it was because he had reached level 36 in the video game aboard the airplane, which, as Evan noticed, considerably ticked off an already annoyed Colin. Maybe it was because Bradley, walking around in mid-flight, discovered the refrigerator that Mr. Dickinson had stocked earlier. But it was probably because it was his first time to be running around in a different country; specifically, Hong Kong, China.  
  
Mr. Dickinson had just returned from a quick teleconference with one of his old associates based in China and was looking quite happy when Bradley ran up to him, nearly tackling the aging man.   
  
"Hey! Are we gonna hang around here or something? Do we get to check out the local beyblading?"  
  
The balding man, whose bowler hat had toppled to the floor unceremoniously just a few seconds ago, waved off Bradley's incessant questioning and pulled up his hat from the cool steel floor. He coughed and smiled back at the energetic youngster in his all so familiar way.   
  
"No, Bradley. This is just a short stop. Our plane will be refueled and ready to head to Australia in an hour or so..." Naturally, the blonde orphan looked disappointed. Mr. Dickinson laughed heartily and continued, saying, "Well then, you can always check out the airport terminal! I'm sure there are a few children beyblading here."  
  
Bradley pumped his fist backwards and walked, satisfied with his sponsor's answer, over to where Colin was shouting his head off at Evan, who had somehow managed to get under the brown-haired champion's skin once again.  
  
"OF course Kaiser is just as strong as your stupid chicken!" Colin yelled, infuriated.  
  
"If you say so... Just don't let your delusions cause our loss in tournaments to come."  
  
Colin opened his mouth to let loose with a harsh remark but held it back. Evan was just way too smart and, may I add, sarcastic for him to handle with his regular argument strategies. The russet kid shook his head in recognition of defeat and folded his arms across his chest defiantly, staring away at Bradley instead.   
  
"You guys want to walk around with me? Mr. Dickinson said there would be beyblading here."  
  
Colin nodded then glared contemptuously at the stone-faced twelve-year old standing next to him. Evan's mouth was twitching, unsuccessfully trying to prevent a triumphant grin from breaking out across his face. Once again the master of Kaiser rolled his chestnut eyes skywards before walking up to Bradley.  
  
"All right. It's a good opportunity to show Evan here what REAL power is. Eh, Evan?"  
  
"So, you're planning to use my Eiras to battle, Colin? Kaiser surely doesn't rank as real power..."  
  
Bradley stepped in between his one-time rival Colin Drake, whose head seemed like it was releasing steam already, and Evan, who was wearing an uncharacteristic smirk. It would be best if they arrived in Australia with none of them "missing".  
  
"Hey, man, stop bugging Colin. You may have the stronger bitbeast-" Colin growled, interrupting Bradley's pacifist message. The blonde teenager gulped and retracted his statement, saying, "I mean, both of you are EQUALLY skilled, all right? So stop pissing him off with your sarcasm, a'right?"   
  
Evan nodded sullenly and extended a reluctant hand towards Colin, who scowled but shook it anyway. The two then took a step away from each other and fixed their gaze in different directions.   
  
"All right then... C'mon, let's go!" Bradley shouted, impatient. His two teammates presently followed him, jogging a bit to match Bradley's pace.  
  
...Standing but a few meters away, a tall Chinese boy grinned in the shadows of his hiding spot. The well-built and reasonably athletic boy soon sprinted after the threesome, giving chase. As he ran, he repeated his mantra over and over again inside his head.  
  
'You can't fight what you can't see...' And he vanished into thin air.   
  
===========================  
  
"Whoa, nice battle, guys!" Bradley said, congratulating both Evan and Colin, who had practically shredded apart the blades of a few morons who arrogantly accepted their challenges.   
  
"... Thank you."  
  
"That was over before it started anyway." Colin added to Evan's quiet reply, staring analytically at the pulverized beyblades of their opponents. Bradley shrugged and noticed a stall selling a bunch of Chinese snacks, such as siu pao and siu mai. Naturally, Bradley rushed over to it immediately, pulling out his wallet.   
  
"Hey, I'm going to get 3 of those buns... How about you guys?"  
  
Colin bit his lip, choosing from the limited selection of foods.  
  
"I'll try some of the dumplings." He finally said.  
  
Evan pulled out his wallet, seeing as he already computed the cost and was beginning to retrieve bills to pay for the food when Bradley interrupted him.   
  
"Wait, Evs... I'll pay for the food, a'right?"  
  
"All right. But where does your wallet happen to be?"   
  
"Right... here. What THE?!?" Bradley exclaimed, surprised that his wallet had just disappeared.  
  
"Hell! Somebody must've picked it out of your hand while we waited!"   
  
Colin fumed and began looking around for any possible culprits. Bradley though, realized that they had been entirely alone in front of the dimsum stand. The only way for somebody to have stolen his wallet was for the thief to be invisible. And that was impossible, right?  
  
Evan's eyes were already narrowed. He had shut out the voices of his two infuriated comrades and instead began to search the surroundings in very much the same way Colin tried. But this time, he had Eiras helping him.   
  
His vision suddenly exploded in a brilliant flash and as the luminescence cleared, he saw the world in a monotone black and gray color, which seemed to pulse at erratic intervals. Eiras was circling a few meters away from where he stood, gesturing towards his master to follow him.   
  
'I have located your bandit with some effort... It took a while but, as expected, I succeeded.'   
  
'Excellent job, Eiras. Fly ahead but not so far ahead so that I may be able to follow your path.'  
  
He began sprinting after his bitbeast and unknown to him, his two very confused teammates followed after his footsteps.  
  
"Where do you think he's going?" Colin asked and Bradley shrugged in reply as they ran.  
  
"Who knows? Geniuses are always a bit weird."   
  
===========================  
  
Evan stopped abruptly, not even realizing that he had practically ditched both of his teammates in the labyrinthine structure that was the airport and was now standing alone in the middle of a seemingly abandoned storage room. Or, if a passerby could see as he could, standing alongside an ethereal oversized raven, a giant black panther and a very amazed ( or possibly amused) boy.   
  
"Return my friend's wallet." Evan said in a slightly threatening manner. His bitbeast gave out a low guttural shriek, which presently made the panther take a few steps backward.  
  
The messy black hair of the person he was addressing fluttered slightly as the teenage boy ran a hand through it, whistling at the same time. The Chinese boy, whom Evan noticed was taller than him, grinned and patted his feline companion on the back reassuringly.   
  
"And stop hiding. I can see you perfectly well, anyway."   
  
"All right... On one condition, you tell me how your overgrown chicken found me."  
  
The boy seemingly stepped out from behind an invisible curtain, holding an entirely jet-black beyblade in his right hand. Evan noted the fact that its bit chip was pulsing in the same way his did. The apparently amused pickpocket folded his arms across his chest and stared at the shorter boy, waiting for Evan to finish his end of the deal.   
  
"I already had this foreboding about an invisible threat of some sort... I didn't expect it to be so literal in meaning though."  
  
The Chinese boy laughed in a hollow way.  
  
"I merely sent out Eiras to search for any bitbeasts in the immediate vicinity, seeing as bitbeasts cannot conceal themselves from one another. I theorized Eiras would lead me to someone like you, who would control a bitbeast that bestowed upon him the ability to disappear into thin air."  
  
The black-haired boy clapped in mock approval then suddenly glared angrily at the twelve-year old who, figuratively and literally, saw right through his plan. He attached his blade to a metallic launcher in one swift motion, aiming the device straight at Evan.  
  
"Well, congratulations, boy! You just won yourself a beyblade battle from hell!" The still unnamed boy shouted, infuriated. Evan's hands darted into his pockets and he too snapped his beyblade and launcher together in an equally lightning fast way.  
  
===========================  
  
"I doubt that."   
  
The thief then pulled away the rip cord at blinding speeds, sending his blade straight for Evan's face. And as he did, Evan's beyblade was already rocketing upwards, ready to deflect what would be a scarring blow to his head. The two morbidly colored blades broke away and fell to the floor, still spinning at intensely fast speeds.   
  
Evan's blade zipped back to where his opponent's was and the two collided; a harsh clang in an otherwise quiet room. They continued this duel, trading blows with amazing strength, as if both would never run out of energy.   
  
'This stranger is good... I will have to summon Eiras to win this battle.'  
  
'Amazing, this kid is actually putting up a fight. Not for long though...'  
  
Both beyblades glided away from each other, circling the steel floor like vultures ready to strike at a rotting carcass. Then they both launched themselves at their respective opponents, causing the floor to warp under the fiery intensity of their attack. Evan's then pounced on the thief's in an attempt to wipe out his foe's blade in one strike. However, the black blade of his competitor spun away, leaving behind a set of ghost images to confuse Evan.   
  
'Damn it... He's fast.'  
  
"Helzing! Shadow Cloak!" The thief commanded in a booming voice, interrupting Evan's thoughts.  
  
As expected, the black beyblade suddenly disappeared from where it stood just a few inches away from Evan's blue and black beyblade. Then it came back, unseen, ramming the orphan's beyblade repeatedly and unceasingly from all possible directions. It struck like a snake, darting back and forth with amazing precision and power, overrunning its helpless opponent in a matter of seconds.   
  
"Eiras-" Evan shouted, feeling a familiar tinge of raw power creeping through his body. His mouth twisted into a diabolical grin as he let all resistance fall and allow the dark energies of Eiras to take possession of his mind. "Obliterate his cowardice once and for all! Fabricate!"  
  
A crackling barrier of dark matter blasted upwards from where the two beyblades battled, effectively trapping both inside it. Without warning, the invisibility that veiled the thief's beyblade shattered into mirror-like shards of energy, providing the ruthless shadow of what the timid Evan was with an enormous window of opportunity. The empowered beyblader held his hand out in front of him and commanded his bitbeast, which now soared over the field of darkness.   
  
"No you don't! Helzing, Reverse Cutter!"   
  
The young pickpocket's beyblade charged straight for Evan's glowing one, then vanished seconds before achieving contact with its attack ring. It reappeared in the air right above the very edge of Evan's beyblade, before gravity brought it down right on the lip of the black and blue blade's lip, sending it flying through the air. Helzing, the giant panther, roared triumphantly before charging for the weakened Eiras at full speed.  
  
Evan's blade slammed into the wall before collapsing onto the steel floor, spinning feebly. Without much strength in his beyblade to rely on anymore, Evan quickly turned his attention back to his bitbeast who was now spreading his wings majestically and flying upwards.  
  
"Now! Gate to the Nether!" Evan commanded imperiously, as his raven released an earsplitting screech, which caused the thief he was fighting to fall to his knees in pain.   
  
A monstrous gate of immense proportions, its innards bellowing with the furious shrieks of demons and monsters to horrible to be named, appeared ominously before the charging Helzing. The doors of the obsidian and brimstone gate blew inwards, releasing a jet of sulfuric fumes into the air, as the panther, desperately trying to stop, slid helplessly into the portal. Then the opposite side of the hellish gate opened as well, releasing a visibly defeated bitbeast from its grasp. The overwhelmed Helzing, bleeding silver and black blood all over, quickly dissipated into particles which flew into the bit chip of the thief's beyblade.   
  
Apparently, the energy sucked out of Helzing was transferred to the now energized beyblade of Evan, which was zooming straight for the enfeebled blade of his opponent. And in one quick swipe, the battle was over.  
  
===========================  
  
The adolescent thief cursed profusely before picking up his beyblade and sprinting past Evan, who was still recovering from his second encounter with the all-consuming power of Eiras. The pickpocket quickly ran down the corridor, feeling beaten but still victorious at the same time. That is, until he ran into the heel of Colin. The boy's head connected with the underside of Colin's spinning heel, knocking him out instantly. He collapsed to the floor unconscious.  
  
===========================  
  
"NO WAY! Just because this half-assed moron put up a good fight doesn't mean he has to join our team!"  
  
"Hey, Colin, calm down. This way we can sort of monitor him too, right, Evan?"  
  
"That's the general idea... It would also be interesting to study his bitbeast."  
  
"You guys are the stupidest idiots I've ever seen? Don't you realize how freaking impulsive all of you are acting?"  
  
"You're one to talk, Colin."  
  
"Evan, stop irritating the poor guy. Anyway, look at it this way: With a fourth member, we stand a way greater chance of winning the season. That battle Evan held was the best try outs we could possibly ever had. With a guy this good, we're bound to win!"  
  
"If he doesn't steal all our resources first."  
  
"Shut up, Colin."  
  
"Jeez, fine. But don't blame me when your money goes missing."  
  
Waking up groggy and with a terrible headache is one of the worse things that can happen to a person. Especially after that person was caught and beaten by a measly kid and socked by some arrogant nutcase with an iron ankle. Leheung groaned, reflecting the agony he was in. He blinked a bit, trying to make out the pudgy face of a white-haired man standing over whatever he was lying down on. He heard the whir of airplane engines in the background... A very familiar sound. Then he suddenly realized why. Leheung sat upright suddenly, which led to him whacking his head on Mr. Dickinson's and collapsing back on the makeshift cot the aging man had arranged to be brought aboard their plane.   
  
"Why the hell did you bring me along? You could have just left me there..." He asked, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper.  
  
Some blonde guy now stood right beside his cot, looking down on him with interest.  
  
"Well, we figured we could do with some extra beyblading talent for the World Tournaments. Evan did praise your abilities quite a bit and as you probably know by now, not much people deserve his praise."  
  
He heard a sarcastic cough in the background and the sound of one punching a guy lightly in the stomach.   
  
"Colin, if you don't shut the hell up, you're gonna be eating out of a pipe in your cheek for the next few months. I mean it."  
  
"Yeah, right."  
  
The brown-haired guy hovering near the blonde one apparently shut up anyway. The black-haired kid who would defeated him just a while ago (How long had it been, anyway?) walked up to where the blonde-haired guy was and bent over, staring at him. Leheung blinked and tried to get a better view of the faces. The old man was now talking about something with all three of the teenagers. Something about him allowing it...  
  
"You don't have a choice. You're part of this team now." The black-haired boy said emotionlessly and Leheung noticed his voice had changed since their battle. Sounded a lot more meek now.  
  
"What is your name? It would be impractical to call you "thief" for the duration of our journey." The mousy kid continued and Leheung nodded, remembering that this was the same guy who humbled his beyblading skills. He sat upright, thankfully avoiding the bald man's forehead this time, and stared at the three beybladers in front of him.  
  
The blonde guy with a seemingly permanent grin on his face who he would later come to know as Bradley.  
  
The fellow Asian boy with the pony tail and the weird split personality who he would soon call Evan.  
  
The conceited brown-haired nutcase with that condescending frown who would be known to him as Colin.  
  
"My name is Leheung Ngie."  
  
Bradley frowned, as if he had heard the name somewhere before but shrugged and smiled at his new teammate.   
  
"Well then, Leheung, welcome to the team."  
  
===========================  
  
End of Chapter 


	10. Top of the World

The New Generation  
  
Hey, this fic isn't doing so bad  
  
=================================  
  
"Holy-" Colin begun to say out loud but Evan slapped a hand over his mouth. The russet-haired beyblader pulled off his Asian teammate's palm off his mouth and blinked in astonishment, visibly amazed with the sight that lay before him and his friends.   
  
The immense beyblading facility of the Australian branch of the BBA practically sparkled with resplendent glory. Asymmetrical pillars held up the giant dome in an almost chaotic yet exquisite manner, striking through the gold-tinted steel of the ceiling in jagged strokes. Thousands of chairs, positioned on the elevated viewing arrangement, circled the main dish, which lay in a lowered section of the arena, probably to grant the spectators a better view of the action that went on in it. All this formed a magnificent tangle of strangely distorted figures, somehow creating the impression that whoever was inside had stepped into a modern artwork.   
  
Bradley stepped forward and shook his head in disbelief. "I never thought we'd actually go this far, you know. " He said mirthfully, laughter playing under his voice.  
  
Evan nodded silently in agreement and continued onwards, walking to where the registration stand awaited the newly formed team of complete amateurs. His three teammates quickly followed him, their attention returned to the task at hand.   
  
=================================  
  
"Names? This is just for publicity purposes, you know. The media's always so interested with new teams..." The middle-aged registrar asked, not bothering to look up from his desk. Bradley scratched under his nose, shrugged and grasped one of the black ball pens on the table in front of the registrar. The blonde orphan jotted down his name in his unruly handwriting, which provided quite a bit of a challenge for the man to decipher.  
  
"Bradley." He said cheerfully to the confused registrar before tossing the pen over to Evan, who caught it and signed his own name in amazingly flawless script. He nodded to the registrar and handed over the pen to Leheung.  
  
"I'm Leheung Ngie!" The Chinese national stated proudly before writing down his own name and adding some symbols beside it. The black-haired teenager, admiring his handiwork with a satisfied smile, passed the ball pen onto same old haughty Colin. The second eldest member of the team muttered something incoherent while the ball pen flew over the registration paper in clean strokes.  
  
"There. Now can we go?" He inquired impatiently; his right eyebrow raised, daring the registrar to differ.  
  
"Yes, yes... You will meet the other teams in the center dish for the opening ceremonies."  
  
Colin shook his head and strolled away from his teammates, gesturing them to leave him alone. Bradley rubbed the back of his head and sighed. The guy was skilled but he could be a real temperamental pain in the ass.  
  
"This is awesome! Imagine all the pockets to pick and the girls to meet!" Leheung exclaimed, grinning evilly as his mind began plotting away. Evan quickly poked the back of their 15-year old companion's head and stared grimly at him.  
  
"Fine, I'll lay off the wallets... I guess I won't be needing money while hanging around the team anyway."  
  
"Yeah! We're funded, remember?" Bradley interjected and smirked at his two comrades before jabbing a thumb in the direction of the center dish where they were due to arrive. Leheung laughed and nodded, walking off towards their meeting place.  
  
"Cool... I've always wanted to get some new parts for Helzing. It's been ages since I updated his blade."  
  
Bradley chortled in reply and pulled out his white blade. "We had to modify our beyblades because they must have been decades old when Father gave them to us."  
  
"Father?" Leheung inquired, his amber eyes lighting up in curiosity.  
  
"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that we're orphans... Father Matthew used to take care of us in his orphanage" The beyblader explained and Evan nodded, backing him up.  
  
"My parents dumped me in a center when I was 10 so I sorta know how it is..." Leheung then laughed despite the somewhat touchy topic and smiled fondly, as if he was remembering stuff. He coughed and continued with his story.  
  
"Anyway, I picked some old guy's pocket and found a really neat beyblade-" He gestured towards his blade "-but he caught me and made me battle this kid who was accompanying him. I lost but he still said I was really good and brought me with him here..."  
  
"Here?" Bradley interrupted, surprised.  
  
"Yeah. Although this dump wasn't so shiny last time I was here." Leheung laughed again, an amused expression spreading across his face. He ran a hand through his long messy black hair and stared at the intricately made walls wistfully.   
  
"After that I joined their team as a reserve. I became close to one of the girls on the team-"  
  
Evan made a gagging sound, interrupting Leheung's story. The Chinese boy narrowed his eyes and reached out for the shorter Asian's head, rubbing his knuckles into the pony-tailed boy's scalp.  
  
"Very funny, squirt. Anyways, the guy who beat me last time around got really ticked off that she was paying more attention to me and we kept fighting each other until..." The oldest part of the team of rookies sighed regretfully and shook his head. "I had enough and ran away again."  
  
"I thought my life was screwed up..." Bradley remarked gloomily before shrugging in his familiar carefree manner and walking just slightly faster towards the center dish. In just a few minutes, he had suddenly felt a lot closer to this enigmatic pickpocket...  
  
"Oh well, at least Colin wasn't here... Otherwise, you wouldn't hear the end of it from his mouth." The emerald-eyed beyblader added cheerfully, trying to brighten their spirits again. Leheung laughed out loud before patting a back on Bradley's back and nodding.  
  
"You got that right. Speaking of the brat, we should hurry up to the center dish. He's probably angry because we're late."  
  
=================================  
  
"Welcome to the opening ceremonies of the annual Beyblading World Cup! This is DJ Sandman, signing in, as your guide for this blowout of beyblading!"  
  
"And as usual, this is his partner, Joe Spinner, ready to deliver every single bit of this exciting ceremony to you, our beloved audience!"  
  
"Today, we will be introducing the world famous national teams, along with a fresh new one, who we sincerely hope will be up to the task of facing their experienced counterparts!"  
  
"The national teams on the other hand have chalked up amazing track records during off season and are juiced up for this season of beyblading!"  
  
"And so, without further ado, please welcome the team with the highest Battle Point Average, The Millennium Knights!"  
  
Below the sky box where the two rowdy commentators were announcing, Bradley and his teammates, now joined by Colin, stared through the glass doors separating the corridor in which they were assigned to remain until called for, from the commotion outside.  
  
Four beybladers, led by an extremely severe looking girl who reminded Bradley of a vampire, walked out into the center of the stadium as applause bombarded them from every angle of the arena. Bradley immediately recognized the stern 14-year old, brown-haired teenager as Irei Beaumont, a half-French, half-British beyblader whose mythical skills placed her on a pedestal far above any of the other bladers. She crashed into the post-Bladebreaker beyblading scene with a bang, completely annihilating records set by the previous champions single-handedly. The fact that she was one of the world's most renowned concert pianists and an internationally acclaimed fencing champion added to her celebrity status, along with her becoming the only female team captain in BBA League history. Not that her teammates were without merit though.  
  
"Can you believe that, huh? We're actually going to be standing right beside THE Millennium Knights." Bradley remarked happily.  
  
"Which reminds me... What the hell is our team name?" Colin said urgently, pacing the floor in panic.  
  
Bradley's green eyes bugged out slightly and he slapped a hand to his forehead.  
  
"Argh... I didn't think of that... How about Storm Bladers?"  
  
"Sounds all right but makes us seem like amateurs..."  
  
"We ARE amateurs."  
  
"Oh yeah..."  
  
"Then Storm Bladers it is!" Leheung piped up, smiling exuberantly. "I'll sprint over to the registrar and notify him of our team name."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
As they discussed their new title, four new beybladers walked into the center dish as well, receiving quite a bit of applause and cheers from the crowd as they went. At their head was a relatively tall and athletic-looking teenage boy with messy brown hair, grinning widely as he proceeded to his team's spot beside the Millennium Knights. Behind him was a slightly shorter if not more sprightly boy who seemed most likely to be his brother and two teenage girls of roughly the same height.  
  
"Please put your hands together for the overall champions in the doubles beyblading matches and the second placers in off season BPA scoring! Welcome, Revolutionaries!"  
  
The tallish boy at their head was Matt Valencia, the Revolutionaries' 15-year old team captain and the driving force between the so-called beyblading "revolution" back at his and his teammates' home country, the Philippines. He founded and led the team of cousins and siblings to fame in their country and around the world by qualifying for and ending third overall in the beyblading association's world tournaments, igniting a craze back in his hometown for the otherwise already popular sport. Now in the same spots where they trained with punched out barrels and trash cans borrowed from their parents, practice dozens of aspiring beybladers, adding to their country's total of the world's highest number of beybladers. While definitely not in the same league as the Millennium Knights, Matt and the Revolutionaries were still one of the most popular and talented teams around.   
  
Leheung dashed back to where his teammates stood and bent over, panting heavily. "Got lost..."  
  
"Got the name in?" Colin asked, arms still folded across his chest.  
  
"Yeah... Took a while too 'cause there was an old team named Storm Bladers. Disbanded though."  
  
Colin nodded approvingly before staring back out though glass barrier. "Good. Now let's wait for our turn..."  
  
"And as our volunteers for the exhibition match to be held later, please welcome the hometown heroes, Wild Pack! We guarantee a real show for you when these guys start blading later!"  
  
Devon Rembrandt; the number one beyblader in all of Australia and probably one of the top bladers in the world as well. Backed up by one of the most illustriously rich sponsors in the league, Devon and his similarly well-skilled team members blazed a trail through the amateur tournaments and now sit comfortably at third place off season BPA scoring. Of course, that didn't stop him from ripping up some rookies' beyblades now and then, seeing as his mean streak definitely did not disappear with the fame he received from beyblading. It probably just got worse when he received all that popularity. Of course, this made him the enemy of many other guys in the league; whom he presently dispatched through means of utterly destroying their beyblades...  
  
Like the way his blade would soon be annihilated by the one person he thought was gone.  
  
=================================  
  
End of Chapter  
  
Help! I need team name ideas for the Americans! Give me ideas! 


	11. Not Exactly a Fight

The New Generation  
  
Thank you to all the peeps who read and reviewed my story. I don't care how many of you there are, just as long as I actually have some readers. Just as a note, this story might end up being very long all right? I dunno how long, seeing as I expect this to run through all the national tournaments, a laid out extra event and the last part... Eh, who cares.  
  
==================================  
  
Memories of defeat and pain swirled in a tempest of destructive impulses.  
  
The inner sanctum of his mind being stripped away once more, violently being purged of its sanity.  
  
Voices, cold, emotionless voices seared into him like boiling water being poured over his scalp.  
  
It hurt so much but... it had to be done. It had to be done according to his will.  
  
He repeated it like a mantra as he was once more engulfed in fiery agony, his spirit weakening.  
  
The suffering was too much to bear, he could not withstand this mental torture any longer. He would give...  
  
Suddenly, cold dread washed over him, cleansing his body of the sheer anguish that flowed through it.  
  
An image appeared in the darkest, most hollow corner of his mind, grinning at him with curved, yellowing teeth that exuded a rancid air. It slithered out, it's feathered wings unfolding and blanketing more of his innermost thoughts with a foul shadow. The sinister, swooping raven of gigantic proportions, armored with the coldest of black feathers, glided over to the center of the broken fortification that was his mind.   
  
~Prepare yourself, my servant. The time for bitbeasts to rule mankind is at hand.~   
  
The immense bird roared a screeching, unarguably evil shriek and flapped its great wings, taking flight and thus, abandoning the breached securities of his willing servant's mind.  
  
==================================  
  
Evan's eyes shot open abruptly and he felt a warm bead of sweat trace a line down the curves of his tan cheek. He felt an unbearable pain flash through his mind for the fleetest of seconds before fading away as a silver mist does on a hot summer day. 'Strange, ' he thought, 'That was most surely not Eiras' emotions...' The black-haired teenager stroked his face with a slow swipe from his small but all so precise hand. The week had been quite the ride for the twelve-year old and although he may not have realized it at the moment, there was a lot more intrigue to come for he and his teammates.  
  
"Evan! Quick man, it's our turn in the spot light!"  
  
He heard Bradley say, urgent and demanding, instead of the usual chipper of delight. Evan nodded without pulling a single muscle on his face, void of emotion. For a kid about to ushered into instant fame, Evan sure showed no signs of nervousness. Or anything else for that matter.  
  
He jogged to keep pace with his three taller comrades and slowed down when he reached them, partially because he was taken aback with all the cheers and applause that was raining down on him. He had expected some recognition to be parted to him when he became a beyblader, but not this torrent. Colin and Leheung seemed to be handling it quite professionally, avoiding the gazes of the crowd and walking straight to the center dish, as they most probably had been exposed to matters of this sort before, but Bradley seemed to be having the best time of all four of them, completely soaking up the applause, waving and flashing his teeth appreciatively at the crowd. He seemed to just attract all the cameras to him.   
  
"Bring on... The Storm Bladers! These guy's aren't just any boys picked right off the street! Placing second, third and fourth to THE Devon Rembrandt out of a field of over 200 beybladers in a league-sanctioned tournament shows that these guys have got some mad skills! Not only that, but we've heard some rumors that their leader Bradley-"   
  
"What!?!" Colin fumed, unbelievably surprised with the development. Bradley grinned evilly and shrugged.   
  
"-has an angel type bitbeast! The only other angel bitbeast we know of is held by the reigning champion of both the league's tournament rankings and the BPA scoring charts, Irei Beaumont!"  
  
The mere mention of the name brought up a tsunami of cheers from the crowd. Irei, standing in the very center of the lights trained on the beyblading teams, let a small smile slip through, pleased with the arrangements. She did have to admit, Radiance, her bitbeast, did have quite a lot to do with her so far unparalleled success in the sport. Coupled with her innate skill, Radiance proved to be a completely peerless challenger in the dish.  
  
"But Bradley isn't just the only exceptional dude in the house, seeing as we have a two-time regional champion with us... Colin Drake, the dragon master! Wild Pack fans are also going to be in quite a surprise as Leheung Ngie of the Storm Bladers is actually a former reserve member of the famous team!"  
  
"We have absolutely no idea why he's not playing for them any more though."  
  
"Yep. No idea."  
  
In that split second, Evan suddenly realized that Leheung was not avoiding the all mighty gaze of the crowd, but he was in fact evading the steely glare coming from Devon, whose team stood but a few meters away from theirs. Leheung's deep gold eyes stared down at the floor, dark and occupied by memories of only which he could see. His face was sullen and without the usual calmness that pervaded him most of the time, as if a great burden that he had struggled to contain had once more been placed on his shoulders.  
  
"Are you all right?" Evan whispered, tapping the far taller Chinese boy on his shoulder.  
  
"...Yeah, I'm fine. You ought to be more nervous you know, they're probably going to introduce you next."  
  
Leheung forced a grin and scrubbed Evan's neatly combed black hair into a messy tangle with his knuckles. Evan scowled in return, as he expected his comrade to be slightly more upfront with his emotions, and continued staring blankly into the distance.  
  
"The last member, but definitely not the least one, is Evan, another multi-talented orphan all the way from Europe! But what makes this guy special is his beyblading skills, which are rumored to be amazing for a short dude like him, and his super raven bitbeast, Eiras! You heard us right, this kid has and can actually control a raven bitbeast!"  
  
A hushed, revering sort of silence fell upon the massive audience and suddenly, the small Asian orphan standing beside his three friends felt a lot more vulnerable.   
  
"It's not like he's the only who was able to control a raven anyway." Devon remarked in a loud voice, breaking the awed quiet of the crowd.  
  
Bradley's eyebrow twitched and he presently stood in front of Evan protectively, shielding the smaller kid from Devon's glare.   
  
"Yeah well, go bite somebody else's head off. If you recall properly, I nearly beat you WITHOUT a bitbeast. Imagine what I could do now?"   
  
Devon growled angrily and took a step forward, his fists clenched.  
  
"You little punk, that was mere luck."  
  
"Hey, there! The guy's got some skills, Dev. You have to respect that." Matt too had stepped forward, his life-filled brown eyes staring reprovingly back at the black ones of Devon.  
  
"Stay out of this. I won't let you or your stupid chicken of a bitbeast interfere with me this time."  
  
Matt scowled in fury and stomped a few more meters closer to Devon, sizing him up.  
  
"My bitbeast is not a chicken. Why don't you shut up and put that ego of yours back into your enlarged head?" He retorted, trying to keep himself from flaying the pompous beyblader alive.  
  
"Yeah, Devon, shut up for once!" Mitchell, the red-headed captain of the American team, The Hawk Hunters, shouted from his side, with his teammates moving near him to back their leader up.  
  
"Why do all of you give a damn about what I do, anyway?" The Australian captain sprayed, his voice peaked with frustration and rage.  
  
"Because you are the most freaking conceited idiot in this league!"   
  
Bradley shouted at Devon, who presently roared in fury in a manner quite similar to his bitbeast's, throwing himself at the golden-haired orphan. Devon's teammates, with the exception of Jessica, who was staring bug-eyed at the entire melee, launched themselves too at the defiant Storm Blader, flinging punches as they went. Matt and Mitchell, restrained by their teammates, struggled to free themselves and most likely get caught up in the fight as well. Apparently their allies thought they were too valuable for that. Leheung and Colin opened their mouths to say something but were presently caught off when with a quick swish, a fencing saber was aimed at the squabbling adolescents.  
  
"Will all of you please conduct yourselves a bit MORE CIVILIZED in this arena. This is a televised event." Irei said commandingly and a tense period of silence followed. She flicked her exquisitely designed saber back into its sheath at her hip elegantly and then glared sternly at the fighting beybladers.   
  
"Hey, see? That's a lot better!" She chirped up, acting a lot more like a normal teenage girl than Bradley ever thought possible. Irei smiled in an approving way and walked back to her team, where Alexander was standing stiffly, his own rapier extended in self-defense. He frowned, shrugged and tucked it away, spinning around as not to maintain contact with the other teams. "Imbeciles..."  
  
"Er... Well then, folks! Let's move onto the exhibition match between the Storm Bladers and Wild Pack!"  
  
"Uh, yeah! This is bound to be exciting! Teams, please select your representatives!"  
  
Below, Colin was spouting some junk about how Bradley should have kept his cool and was worrying about the match to be held, as he didn't recall any of them being told that they would be the ones facing off in the exhibition battle. Evan was silent as usual, tinkering in his own methodical little way with his beyblade, adjusting minute details here and there to assure that it would have maximum performance if he was picked by his friends. Leheung was standing coldly at the fringe of the discussion between his two younger and definitely more immature teammates, his arms folded across his chest.  
  
"I can't believe this! We've had no time to prepare! And look, they're putting Devon up as their representative! No way can we beat him, seeing as he's seen all our strategies!"  
  
"Hey, Colin, be more optimistic... I nearly beat him without Altiel and now I do have him. I can take him down for sure this time. Oh, and I'm aching for some revenge for that punch he landed on me..." Bradley growled, rubbing his sore cheek.  
  
"Still, we have no idea about how much he's tweaked his style, his blade or maybe his bitbeast even! He knows for a fact that we haven't done any training since the qualifying tournament!"  
  
"Well, I think we still stand a cha-"  
  
"I'll fight him. I need to settle something." Leheung said calmly, stepping forward with a fiery determination glowing in his amber eyes. He unfolded his tense arms and smiled reassuringly at his surprised teammates.  
  
"This is my battle, Bradley, Colin. I'm sorry, but I really have to defeat him."  
  
Colin shook his head and sputtered, "Why?"  
  
"Because I need to prove something to somebody... Prove that I'm better than him. Anyway, stay out of this, all right? I have to win this alone." The black-haired Chinese national pleaded, staring at his two hesitant teammates intently.  
  
Bradley scratched the underside of his nose and shrugged. "Why the hell not? Anyway, we really do need to see you battle in the first place... Go kick that moron's ass." He grinned and clapped a hand on his elder friend's shoulder.  
  
"Thanks, man! I won't let you down!" Leheung replied, grateful for the chance that they had given him.  
  
Evan looked up from his work and watched his three teammates discuss battle tactics with amusement. Even though it was obvious they were amateurs, anyone could plainly see that these guys had the heart of winners and were determined to achieve something great... Evan winced suddenly, as another searing burst of red hot pain streaked through his mind. He held a hand to his forehead and shut his eyes in concentration.  
  
'What the hell is happening to me?'  
  
==================================  
  
End of Chapter  
  
Heyaz! I'm updating kinda quickly, huh? I finally got rid of my mental block and am proceeding really smoothly with the writing bit now! Hope you guys enjoy! 


	12. The Lion and The Panther

The New Generation  
  
============================  
  
"Okay, then! Leheung, this guy's gonna go all the way on the offensive! Whatever you do, don't try to match up with his bitbeast using brute force! No way will you beat him in terms of power!"  
  
Bradley advised enthusiastically, gesturing with his arms to drive home the point. Colin nodded and then added his own suggestion, saying,  
  
"Try to avoid his attacks entirely and wait until he commits a mistake before striking. Just make sure your hastiness doesn't cloud whatever little judgment you have, all right?"  
  
"...Patience is key to victory." Evan commented before returning on silently tweaking his beyblade.  
  
"I appreciate the support, but remember, I trained with this guy. I think I can handle the squirt again." Leheung replied; his voice a mix of muted sadness and exuberant confidence. His face shone with a fierce pride that refused to be extinguished and his golden orbs were lit with an impassioned determination; an ember that over the years had grown into a vicious inferno.  
  
"I'm not going to lose to him one more time..." He added, his teeth gritted and his eyes narrowed to slits.  
  
A thick silence followed shortly as the three other members of the Storm Bladers stared at their somewhat demented-looking teammate for a few minutes, more than slightly taken aback. Bradley coughed loudly and waved his hand in front of Leheung's face.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Oh, yeah. Time to go then." Leheung replied cheerfully, taking a 180 degree mood swing in one second.  
  
============================  
  
"Leheung stands no hope of beating you, man. You always were the better blader, Dev." A red-headed Wild Pack beyblader affirmed, patting his shorter but more lethal captain on the shoulder. Devon laughed and folded his arms across his chest, staring at the frantic Storm Bladers appraisingly, amused with their pathetic attempts to act like a real team.  
  
"You got that right, Willis. I humiliated him once, I can do it again." Devon chuckled once more and began walking up to the dish that had risen up mechanically from the focal center of the entire arena.  
  
"Go show him what it means to be a real beyblader!" Willis and his similarly red-headed younger brother, Chad, cheered on, ignoring the fact that the only female member of their team, Jessica, stared away from the approaching showdown, grief imprinted on her face.  
  
"Why does Devon always have to fight..." She whispered quietly before turning around sharply and staring intently at the two equally intense beybladers. She gazed fondly at Leheung, a thin smile crossing her lips.  
  
"Teach him a lesson, Leheung..."  
  
============================  
  
"Hey, hey, hey, hey! Looks like a duel between old buddies here, eh, Spinner? Leheung Ngie against his former team captain Devon Rembrandt!"  
  
"Not to be biased but I sure hope the Storm Bladers no what they're doing, sending in somebody untested against THE man. Devon looks like a sure bet as the winner."   
  
"I hope Leheung is feeling lucky today, because if not, his beyblade's gonna be heading home in separate pieces! I'm sure Devon won't leave any challenger's beyblade intact if he can help it."  
  
"Oh well... This is going to be a harsh wake up call for the Storm Bladers then. Welcome to the reality of beyblading, buckos."   
  
Bradley took a quick gulp and uttered a fast prayer for Leheung. Any form of supplication could seriously affect his teammates performance, seeing as his success probably depended on luck more than anything else anyway.   
  
'Salutes to you, man. Salutes to you.'  
  
============================  
  
Leheung felt some sweat drip down his cheek as a result of nervousness but flicked it away hastily and continued staring down his younger, but evidently feistier and better skilled opponent.   
  
"You're understandably scared, I see." Devon remarked casually, a blank, dead sort of expression plastered on his face.  
  
"Anyone can talk. Only some can play." Leheung attached his beyblade to his launcher and shot back an equally steely gaze.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah... You and your mantras again. Look here, 'cause you were my teammate and all before, I'm willing to put aside my pride and accept you again as one of us, Wild Pack."  
  
"For what? There's always a catch when you're involved."  
  
Devon gritted his teeth and growled, "Stay away from Jessica. I want her."  
  
Leheung's lips curled into a violent scowl and he raised his launcher, poised for battle.  
  
"Selfish brat... Ever though about how she might feel? I hope you're ready for a good match."  
  
The black-haired Australian glowered at his opponent angrily before adopting his own combat stance.  
  
"In that case, say goodbye to your precious beyblade. Go, Reltion!" Devon shouted, unleashing all the strength he had in his well-built arms into his beyblade, which roared into the dish like a charging lion. Before his crimson and black beyblade even scratched the slick dish, an amazing burst of light blasted outwards from the beyblade's bit chip and released the awesome might of Reltion.  
  
"Let it rip!" Leheung exclaimed as well and tugged at the cord of his launcher with an equal amount of vigor. His own beyblade jetted into the combat arena, landing a few good paces away from its opponent and spinning around it, as if sizing up its prey. It darted away a bit more and stood there, gliding around Reltion, who was growling menacingly.  
  
"Reltion! Liger Flash!" Devon commanded.  
  
His scarlet lion bitbeast bellowed in approval before dashing right at its target, speedily amassing charges of pulsating lightning in the attack ring of its black and red beyblade. The entire ring became one rotating shaft of light, ready to sear a hole through the still defenseless beyblade of Leheung, who promptly said, "Go, counterattack!"  
  
His own beyblade hurtled to its apparent doom as Reltion roared once more and lowered its claw to crush the insignificant attacker. The paw went scything downwards and blasted part of the dish into the sky as it passed harmlessly through the ethereal beyblade. The phantom figure immediately vanished as another night hued form zipped at the confused and somewhat enraged lion from the opposite side, led by a previously concealed bitbeast.  
  
"You are so easy to predict!" The Chinese teenager shouted triumphantly as his beyblade and panther bitbeast rammed into Devon's own, sending both flying to the other side of the dish. His rival snarled in reply before sending his beyblade after Leheung's at tremendous speeds. The dark-colored beyblade once again merely passed through another trick, which presently spawned multiple copies of itself. In one moment, a dozen copies of Leheung's beyblade were flitting around the arena.  
  
Devon grinned when he saw this and replied, shouting, "And so are you! Reltion, Liger Storm!"   
  
The Australian captain's beyblade paused in mid-dash as the bitbeast it contained raised its head to the sky and began to roar at the heavens, summoning a rain of lethal electricity down onto the dish. Just as quickly as Leheung had multiplied the transient copies of his beyblade, the devastating lightning shower obliterated nearly all of them, leaving one somewhat charred blade remaining as his opponent and an immensely ravaged dish as his playing field. Both rivals clenched their teeth in anticipation of the next move and sent their beyblades charging straight down the dish at each other, grinding what was left of the metal arena into molten steel.  
  
"Helzing, Fury Gale!"  
  
"Reltion, Liger Cyclone!"  
  
Hurricane-level winds whipped around the speeding Helzing and cut the air into shrieking tatters as the jet black beyblade charged at the electrically packed maelstrom that was Reltion. The two beyblades slammed into each other with deadly force, shattering each other into debris. Leheung's and Devon's voices escaped them as they watched the remnants of their beyblades clatter to the also ruined dish.  
  
============================  
  
"Er... I guess the battle ends in a draw then! Congratulations to both Wild Pack and the Storm Bladers! Of course, that exciting match would not be possible if it weren't for our super cool dudes down there, Devon and Leheung!"   
  
"Yeah, I mean, wow, that was some hell of a match! Both bladers kept on trying to put up something better and better! These guys have some real guts!"  
  
"They're sure gonna need a lot of rest after that intense match!"  
  
No kidding. Leheung slipped his warm bit chip into the right pocket of his jeans and headed over to his somewhat surprised looking teammates. Bradley's mouth was moving up and down in an awkward fashion and was gaping at him like he had witnessed the unveiling of the Holy Grail.  
  
"Wha- You actually tied him? I don't even know how you evaded that stupid Liger Storm attack..."  
  
The blonde orphan sputtered and Leheung shrugged in surprise. He really needed some rest and the incessant voice of Bradley in his ear was definitely something he didn't want. The Chinese boy shook his head and walked past his teammates, heading straight back for the hotel where they stayed.  
  
'I need a rest... My head hurts.' He thought, rubbing his forehead, which he noticed was covered with sweat. 'Guess I was lot more nervous than I tho-'  
  
Leheung swore loudly as he bumped into someone shorter than him, as most people were, and took a few steps back immediately.  
  
"I'm sorry..." He said before quickly heading for the door.  
  
"Leheung! Don't you even recognize a friend anymore?"  
  
Leheung stopped in mid-step and turned around on his heel, coming face to face with an extremely happy brunette girl. He made a choking sound, caused by his surprise; and hastily checked to see if either Colin or Evan was around, as he realized the two would definitely cause trouble if they saw him with this girl.  
  
The light drifted from the glass doors onto her face, accenting its curves in what Leheung saw as an uncomfortably appealing way. The Storm Blader shook his head once and again, surveyed the surroundings for his two supposedly "mature" teammates.  
  
"Ah, Jessica... Sorry, I have this really bad headache and I was heading to the hotel for some rest."  
  
She made a concerned face, moved slightly closer and stroked the back of his hand. "Devon got to you again, didn't he?" The brown-haired Australian beyblader sighed before staring up at him reprovingly. "Your egos never really fit together that well."  
  
"Ego? I'm not a self-centered bastard like him!" Leheung fumed before realizing how arrogant that remark sounded. 'Oh, crap. I hate it when she does that.'  
  
Jessica laughed quietly before smiling softly and placing a hand on his shoulder. Their eyes met, as if locked in a silent exchange of sentiments they had lost for years, and Leheung leaned towards her slowly, not once breaking contact with her deep emerald irises. 'I love it when she does that...' He thought blissfully, pressing closer to her.  
  
"You know, Colin, we should check out the net or something and see if we can dig up anything about Wild Pack. Any bit of information would be useful as a strategy!" Bradley's voice echoed throughout the halls and Leheung pulled away from Jessica, staring at the source of the sound, which was growing ever closer.  
  
"Damn. I'll see you again, Jess, I promise..." He whispered before sprinting out the door, ignoring the headache which had taken a backseat to his instinct just a few moments ago.  
  
'Aw, stupid Bradley... I'll get him for that later...'  
  
============================  
  
End of Chapter  
  
I guess the romance bit is in already... More in future chapters. Bradley's gonna be sorta bummed out because nobody wants to hang around the city with him. Poor guy. Oh well, at least he gets some company later on. 


	13. TV!

The New Generation  
  
============================  
  
Devon hit his head repeatedly on the cream colored wall of his hotel room. He still couldn't believe Leheung actually pulled of a draw against him, in front of a home crowd no less. He always beat Leheung in everything... The Chinese runaway never could put up a fight before. His eyelid twitched in frustration and his lips twisted into a thin scowl. "Willis better have found which hotel those Storm Bladers are hiding in..." He murmured before striding over to the window, which granted him a pleasant view of the bright and lively city. 'Speaking of the brothers... Chad should be arriving with the takeout dinner soon.'  
  
Perched on the miniscule ledge above the open window of Wild Pack's temporary residence was the leader of the Revolutionaries, listening intently to the rants of the emotionally unstable beyblader below him. The sprightly brown-haired boy rubbed the back of his head casually before making a clicking sound with his tongue. A small sparrow flew up to him, gripped his left shoulder with its tiny claws and chirped obediently. The captain scribbled a note on a shred of paper and wrapped it around the inconspicuous bird.  
  
"Bring this to Benjie, Tagumpay. I've got some more work to do." The athletic teenager hopped off his perch and quickly climbed up the side of the hotel. The sparrow cocked its head before flapping its puny wings and soaring off.  
  
Devon watched the small brown bird flap off into the noon sky and smiled. How beautiful winged animals were... So peaceful to watch.  
  
============================  
  
Leheung collapsed onto the cot that had been reserved for him inside their own room. The headache was getting way worse and the fact that Colin got him a bare cot to sleep on was not helping. He was guessing the loser had specifically asked for the minimum for him. Leheung slapped a hand onto his forehead and rolled over in the bed, hoping to get some sleep. Once again though, Bradley just somehow managed to shatter his self-indulgence. The golden-haired orphan stormed into the hotel room and Leheung swore he was in for another chat with his hyperactive captain when Bradley merely fell flat on his own bed, tired. The beyblader moaned in self pity before covering his head with a pillow. 'Aw, what the hell... He looks like he had a maybe equally lousy day.'  
  
Leheung sat upright on the bed and ran a hand through his tangled black hair. "You alright?"  
  
Bradley raised his arm and gave a limp sort of wave. The boy muttered something under his breath and continued to press the pillow down on his head. Leheung shrugged and tapped his teammate's shoulder. "Hello? What happened to you, man?"  
  
"One of your nemesiseses- blech- 'rivals' tailed me heading back here." Bradley sighed, muffled by the cushion he had flattened against his face. "I got lost trying to shake him off... You won't believe how freaking long it took for me to find this place!"   
  
Leheung rolled his eyes to the heavens and stood up. The Chinese boy stooped over, picked up the television set remote and tossed it over his shoulder to Bradley.  
  
"Sorry, Brad. I'm out for a short walk. Watch the replay of the opening while I'm out." Leheung scooped up his coat and fitted it over his broad shoulders before exiting the room. Bradley tossed the pillow away from his face and sat cross-legged on the bed. A grin crossed the European's face and he immediately switched the tv set on. "Okay."  
  
============================  
  
"As all of you know, today was an exciting day for beyblading all around the world! For just a few hours ago, the opening ceremonies for the BBA World League commenced! And as usual, all of the teams put on quite a show, with the exception of the Russian team, Raven Rising, who were absent. Their absence was barely noticed though as most people had their eyes glued to the newly formed Storm Bladers, not to be mistaken with the disbanded team, who already managed to show some grit in the ring!"  
  
Leheung appeared on the television screen, his teeth screwed together in concentration as he watched his beyblade go toe to toe with Devon's.  
  
"Leheung Ngie of the Storm Bladers put up a real fight against heavily favored Devon Rembrandt of Wild Pack-" Bradley snorted in amusement, "-and managed to force a draw during the exhibition match between the two teams. But even before the two collided in the dish, confrontation lines were drawn during a heated exchange of words wherein the captains of all 5 teams argued."  
  
A shot of Bradley's face appeared on the screen, along with four others, which belonged to Irei, Mitchell, Matt and Devon, in no particular order. The photographs were quickly replaced with video footage of his tussle with the Australian captain, with the leaders of the Asian and American teams struggling to join the battle in the fringe.   
  
Bradley laughed at his own antics, realizing how blindly immature he looked. "This is cool..."  
  
"Bradley, the team captain of the Storm Bladers, defended his teammate and fellow orphan, Evan, from the criticisms of Devon concerning the skill it took for Evan to control a raven bitbeast. Mitchell Hawkes and Matt Valencia, the captains of the Hawk Hunters and Revolutionaries, respectively, also reacted to Devon's criticism and immediately began throwing their own flak at the Australian beyblader. A small fistfight started between the four, although both the American and Asian team captains were restrained by their teammates. Order was restored by Irei Beaumont, captain of the World Champions, the Millennium Knights."  
  
"The tension created by this clash has most definitely traced some lines in the sand and the normally peaceable teams may now be splitting into divisions. Our sports analysts say that the Storm Bladers, Revolutionaries and Hawk Hunters will probably be set as one group with the aim of further antagonizing hometown hero Devon and Wild Pack. Wild Pack will most likely be supported by their well-funded ally, Raven Rising. As usual, the Millennium Knights, despite being one of the teams with real financial and political clout, will, in all probability, be unaligned with any of these predicted factions. If this becomes a reality, this may yet be the most exciting beyblade tournament in history, with the exception of the legendary Bladebreakers' stint in the league."  
  
An image showing the world famous Tyson Kinomiya appeared onscreen, with pictures of his teammates quickly following.  
  
"In a related topic, the public has been whipped up into a media frenzy due to unverified reports that their will be a gathering of sorts for the people who were instrumental in the fall of Biovolt. Around two weeks from now, but a few days after the climax of the Australian section of the world championship, is the projected schedule for this event, which is said to feature the likes of the All Starz, White Tigers and the Magestics, along with the Bladebreakers of course. It is yet unknown whether the present beyblading teams will also be invited."  
  
"In other news, the Olympic committee has rejected requests to add beyblading as an Olympic sport-"  
  
Bradley switched the television off and unceremoniously threw the remote onto Leheung's cot. He grinned and rested his head on a soft pillow while images of the aforementioned party filled his mind.  
  
'That would be so amazing... I hope those rumors are true.' The European boy thought before shifting his gaze to the window of their relatively spacious and well-lit hotel residence. A small sparrow flitted by the glass, soaring deftly through the air. A smile crossed Bradley's lips and he folded his arms behind his head, sinking into the bouncy hotel bed. What a nice-looking sparrow, he thought and fell asleep.  
  
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End of Chapter.   
  
Note: Thank you for your support! I thought I'd never get past 30 reviews... ^___^; 


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